Life Won't Wait
by dirtynastysmelly
Summary: As Lydia grows up and grows older, Beetlejuice must struggle along with her through many changes that affect the nature of their friendship through the years. Will they stay best friends forever? Or will she outgrow the 'ghost with the most' and leave him behind? Based solely on the cartoon.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

Beetlejuice was not fond of change. Even after more than six centuries, he had not learned to deal with unwanted changes in his afterlife. He hated people messing with his stuff or forcing him to alter his plans, he despised new rules and laws almost as much as he despised soap, and he couldn't stand seeing any of his scummy rivals become successful in anything. Sure, he was prone to boredom and took great delight in finding new ways to cause mischief, especially among his neighbours, and he loved the excitement of going on new adventures whenever possible, but anything new that he didn't willingly cause or agree to himself was a different story. And so it was that when Lydia, his best friend in the whole wide Neitherworld (or in all the regular world, too), acquired a boyfriend at the age of sixteen, the 'ghost with the most' was none too impressed.

"A boyfriend?! Eeeeyuck!"

"Nice of you to be supportive," Lydia said sarcastically.

"Pfft! Support?" Beetlejuice snorted, and promptly turned into a big, pink bra. "I didn't like THAT little talk, either. This growin' up stuff is the pits!" The scowling bra quickly became a disembodied arm and shoulder with a smelly, hairy armpit.

Lydia gagged and held her nose. "Ewww! Beetlejuice, please!"

"So what's his name?" asked the disgruntled dead man as he turned back into himself but remained floating in the air.

"His name is Sean," Lydia replied softly, unable to hide a smile at the mere thought of the boy. "I really like him a lot. He's such a gentleman and we could talk for hours about anything. Yesterday, during lunch, he gave me a drawing of a spider he made. He's so talented, BJ. You should see how detailed it is."

"Big deal," Beetlejuice grumbled, waving his hand dismissively. "You've seen REAL spiders so up-close and personal you could smell 'em. Remember when I took you on a tour of some of the Neitherworld caves?"

"That's not the point, Beej," she said. "He drew it especially for me. It was... sweet."

The ghost rolled his eyes and let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a gag. Meanwhile, Lydia rummaged in her school bag and retrieved the drawing from one of her binders. She showed it to her friend, who only took a brief glance before floating a little closer to Lydia's bedroom ceiling. He shifted position and reclined in mid air, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms tightly across his chest. If his body language wasn't clear enough, Lydia also noted the utterly foul look of defiance upon his face as he refused to look at the drawing or even meet her eyes.

"Anyway, we have a lot in common," the teen said, turning the picture away from her all-too-obviously disinterested friend so she could look at it herself. "He's into photography as well as drawing, and he enjoys studying bugs, especially arachnids. We like the same kind of music, and he even plays guitar in his own band. I've seen them perform and they're really good. I think even you'd like them, BJ."

There was a long silence and Lydia had to look up to make sure her companion was still in the room with her. He'd drifted towards the window, still in his reclined position, and had his head turned to gaze out into the night. Lydia couldn't see his face to read his expression.

"So, anyway," she continued, placing the drawing on her dresser, "we've been spending a lot of time together already. He's treated me to lunch several times and we've been to a couple movies. And, today, he asked me to be his girlfriend."

Beetlejuice continued to stare out the window, eerily silent. Lydia waited for what seemed like an eternity for him to say something. The sound of her own breathing seemed abnormally loud in the complete stillness of the room. She felt a lump appear in her throat and swallowed hard, anxiety building as she awaited some kind of response from her supernatural friend.

"And you said yes," he finally stated rather than asked, his tone flat and dry.

"Yes," she replied, suddenly feeling strangely guilty, although she wasn't sure why. "I really like him, Beetlejuice."

"Yeah, you already said that, babes," the ghost said, still gazing out at the darkness.

"I don't expect you to understand," Lydia explained, "but I really do want to be his girlfriend. And... I'd really like you to say it's okay."

Beetlejuice's head swung around. "Me?" he asked, looking genuinely surprised and confused.

"Yes, BJ. You're my best friend. And I just... well, I'd like to have your blessing, so to speak." She shrugged nervously and offered a shy smile.

For a moment, Beetlejuice didn't know what to say. Some part of him was warmed by this simple request, although he'd never admit it. But another part - a stronger, angrier part that he was far more inclined to obey - was fuming at the girl's audacity. Lydia could actually watch the shift in his demeanor as he went from mild shock to something softer and unnameable, before taking a sudden swing into anger.

"What's it matter what I say?" he blurted harshly. "You're gonna do what you want, anyway. Why should I agree with it just to make you feel better about your stupid decision?"

Now it was Lydia's turn to be angry, not to mention hurt. "How can you say that?"

"Easy. Like this." He repeated his previous question exactly the same as before. "Or like this." He repeated it again, but this time he took off his head and balanced it on one finger. "Or like-"

"Beetlejuice, do you want to know what I think?" Lydia interrupted, growing more upset by the second at his display of childish antics and hurtful attitude.

"Not really," he replied coldly, putting his head back on and slipping his arms behind it like a pillow as he continued to lounge in the air. "Unless it's about how to roast a dozen roaches in under thirty seconds."

"I think you're jealous!" she pressed on, lips quivering as she held off tears. "I think you're jealous and afraid!"

Beetlejuice threw back his head and laughed mockingly. "Oh, please, babes!" he said. "I'm not jealous of some little nose-picker you met in school. And I'm not afraid of anything." He closed his eyes and appeared relaxed as could be.

"That's a lie and you know it!" the girl insisted angrily, her composure beginning to shatter. She trembled with barely-contained emotion and found herself biting down on her bottom lip at the ghost's apparent nonchalance in the face of her pain. Finally, she could no longer withhold the tears that had been threatening to spill down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands, trying to hide them, and sat heavily on her bed, head inclined towards the floor. "I should've known you would react this way."

Beetlejuice opened one eye. He took in the sight of his best friend hunched there on the end of the bed, broken by his cruel indifference and obstinacy. For a moment, he felt pretty satisfied, but then his ghoulish heart ached at the knowledge that this was Lydia he was looking at, and he alone was responsible for her suffering.

"Lyds," he started before he knew what he was saying.

"Forget it," she said, voice muffled by her hands. "I can't expect you to understand. Sometimes I forget you're dead."

Why did that sting a little? Beetlejuice cleared his throat before swallowing the lump that was forming there. It was true; he didn't understand. For him, existence could go on and on without change. But Lydia was a living girl, and she was growing up. She had her entire life ahead of her, during which she would have countless new experiences and reach many milestones as she grew older and older. He knew she would be getting her driver's license this year, and pretty soon she would be out of high school. After that... well... her life could go in any direction. He began imagining her getting some kind of full-time job, getting married, having her first child... He had to stop right there before he made himself physically ill.

"Uh... look, babes," he said hesitantly, floating nearer to her. "I didn't mean to upset ya. This stuff is all just kinda new to me... know what I mean?"

"What do you think it is to ME?" Lydia asked, finally removing her hands from her face. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, but Beetlejuice could clearly see the dark tracks of mascara that haphazardly painted her pale features. The sight of those black tears made him feel like even more of a heel, and he had to suppress the compulsion to turn into a shoe.

"I've never felt this way about a boy before," she continued. "I've had a couple of dates, but Sean is just so... special."

Beetlejuice's stomach twisted at this. Jealousy flared within him once more, but his love for his friend overruled it. He made himself take a deep breath and felt the green flames die down as he let it out slowly.

Lydia, meanwhile, continued to stare at the floor in silence. She was preoccupied with thoughts of Sean and trying to gain some control over this emotional roller-coaster she was riding. It took her by surprise when she suddenly felt a hand resting gently on her shoulder, and she lifted her head to see Beetlejuice right beside her. He was still hovering in the air and had an expression of apprehension on his face, as if he were uncertain about the contact he'd made. With his eyes as big as saucers, he looked like a frightened animal, ready to recoil and bolt at the first sign of disapproval from her. She reached up and covered his hand with her own, hoping to put him at ease. He did seem to relax slightly, but there was still some great, undefinable pain in his yellow eyes that Lydia had never seen before.

"Listen, Lyds," he finally struggled to say, "I really didn't mean to make ya cry." A black and white striped handkerchief appeared in his free hand and he offered it to her. She took it gratefully and began wiping the streaks of make-up from her cheeks. "And if this boy means so much to you," he went on, "I think you should follow your heart, okay?" His own words rewarded him with a wave of nausea, but he didn't let Lydia see it.

The girl abandoned her efforts to clean her face and reached up to throw her arms around his neck. Beetlejuice stiffened momentarily, then felt himself melting into her grip. He allowed his body to descend from the air until he was sitting on the bed next to her and returned her embrace.

"Thanks, Beej," she said against him, squeezing tighter.

"Even if he IS a little nose-picker," the ghost added slyly, trying to save face a bit.

Lydia understood and managed to laugh. She knew Beetlejuice was pushing himself well beyond his comfort zone with this whole situation, and he needed to make wise cracks to release tension and protect his ego. He would never want to be accused of anything as disgusting as being sensitive or caring.

They maintained their embrace for an unusually long time, clinging to one another with an odd sense of mutual but unspoken desperation. This would be a big change for both of them. In the silence that followed, each one's mind raced with different ideas and possibilities about the future. When Lydia felt Beetlejuice heave a shaky sigh, she held him just a little tighter, gripping the striped fabric of his jacket and memorizing the feel of it beneath her cheek as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I can't stay a kid forever, BJ," she found herself saying at last.

"I know, babes," he said softly.

"But you'll always be my best friend. You know that, right?"

"Yeah," his voice was heavy with emotion. "I know."

She finally withdrew from him and looked him in the eyes. He looked older somehow. His usual fun and carefree presence was nowhere to be seen. It had been replaced by this serious, somewhat sad figure that hardly resembled the Beetlejuice she knew and loved. She supposed that she appeared very different to him at that moment, as well. It really was a strange situation. She should be nothing but happy about having her first boyfriend, so why did she feel more like someone had died?

Inside, the ghost with the most was raging, screaming, crying and begging for this all to be a dream. He was terrified... terrified of losing his best friend to... to what? To life. To growing up and leaving him behind. This little girl that he treasured more than anything and with whom he'd shared so many adventures was becoming a woman, just as she was supposed to; and no matter how much his heart cried out to prevent the inevitable and keep her to himself, he knew she had to live her life, whether it included him or not.

"I'm kinda scared, too," Lydia interrupted his thoughts, almost as if she had been reading them.

"Of what?" he asked.

"Of growing up. All the firsts that are to come." She averted her gaze and blushed slightly as she imagined things such as her first kiss.

"And this is the first of your firsts," he said, feeling a sense of foreboding.

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Well, I'll still be here to protect ya, babes... when you need me."

Lydia looked back up at him and he gave her a smile, trying to appear more confident than he felt. She sighed and leaned forward to put her arms around him again. Beetlejuice felt sick, and it wasn't because of all the mushy talk and sentimentality. His arms came around her possessively and he held her tight to his chest.

"I know I can count on you, BJ," she said into him.

A moment later, he released her and tried to act nonchalant once more. "Well, it's gettin' late, Lyds. You should probably be goin' to bed soon, before your parents start bustin' down the door."

Lydia looked at the time. "Gosh, you're right. I hadn't realized how late it was."

"Yeah," said the ghost as he resumed floating and put some distance between them. "So, I'll get goin' and see ya tomorrow."

"I'm actually not sure I'll have time tomorrow, Beej," she said, looking apologetic. "Sean is taking me to the bowling alley after school, and I have my English assignment to finish when I get home."

Her words hit Beetlejuice like bullets, but he showed no sign of it. "Oh, well, the next day, then," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "G'night, babes."

"G'night, Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice."

And the ghoul disappeared, leaving his parting display of an eyeball, a bat, and a tin can.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

"Petite Lydia has found l'amour?"

"Right, bonehead," Beetlejuice growled from his place on the couch at the roadhouse. "Disgusting, isn't it?"

Jacques LaLean shook his skull. "Non, non, non, Be-atlejuice! C'est magnifique! Ze sweet Lydia deserves romance in her life!"

Beetlejuice gagged openly and the skeleton gave him a disapproving look, but the ghost neither noticed or cared as he kept his eyes on the tv, flipping absent-mindedly through the channels.

"What is ze young fellow's name?" Jacques asked.

"I forget," Beetlejuice lied. "Richard or somethin'."

"Ah, it is of no matter," said Jacques forgivingly. "If Lydia is 'appy, his name matters not." His expression turned thoughtful and he put a bony finger to his absent lips. "I think I shall send Lydia some roses for herself and her new beau, to wish zem well."

BJ groaned and the French skeleton turned and went on his disgustingly merry way out the door. In the meantime, Ginger the tap-dancing spider had stealthily dropped down from above on a single-strand of web and hung in the air next to Beetlejuice.

"What did he say?" she asked.

Beetlejuice's eyes flicked in her direction. "He said you make a good piñata!" he shouted as a sombrero suddenly appeared on his head and he whacked the spider with a colourful stick, sending her sailing across the room. Ginger shrieked and landed in a heap of mangled legs and tangled webbing.

"Ooohh..." she groaned as stars danced before her eyes. "Beetlejuice! You're despicable!"

"Heh, heh... thanks," he replied, showing his green teeth in a sly grin.

"BEETLEJUICE!" a voice suddenly bellowed, making the entire roadhouse shake. The ghost looked to see The Monster Across The Street standing in the doorway, his huge, imposing frame nearly blocking the entire passage. "What in tar-hooties are you doin' to little Ginger?!"

"Tryin' to make her into something useful, furball," BJ retorted. "What's it to you?"

"He batted me across the room!" Ginger wailed, seeking the monster's sympathy.

"Batted you? Pfft!" Beetlejuice said. "If I had batted you, it would've been like this."

He vanished only to immediately reappear directly over her in the form of a bat and began flying around her head and plucking at her hat, all the while laughing like a maniac. Ginger cried and the monster leaned over and thumped Beetlebat on the head with his fist, knocking him down with ease. The bat lay crumpled at his feet for a second before changing shape again, returning to the form of the obnoxious prankster sprawled semi-conscious on the roadhouse floor. Beetlejuice had barely recovered his senses in time to feel himself being lifted forcefully into the air as the monster gripped him by his jacket lapels and brought them eye to eye... or it would've been eye to eye if Beetlejuice had actually been able to SEE the monster's eyes.

"Stop pickin' on Ginger, Beetlebritches!" the monster yelled in his face. "And tell me what's this I'm hearin' about Miss Lydia!" He let him go and BJ landed hard on his rear with a loud thump.

"I don't know how you're hearin' much of anything through all that hair," the ghost quipped with a sour expression as his backside throbbed from impact.

"Jacques was just 'a tellin' me he was on his way to get some flowers for Miss Lydia and her new beau," the monster said, ignoring the remark.

Beetlejuice's expression was bland. "Yeah? So?"

"So it's true," Ginger interjected, having picked herself up and regained her composure. "Lydia must have a boyfriend! Isn't that adorable?"

"Not half as adorable as the rats in my pants," came the grumbled response. Numerous lumps appeared in the striped fabric of his trousers and began racing up and down his legs.

"Well, shucks," the monster said, a brilliant smile having formed in the huge wall of hair beneath the big, blue cowboy hat. "Our little Lydia is growin' right up."

"I wonder what his name is," Ginger wondered.

"Who cares?"

"Well, YOU should, Beetlejuice," the spider answered. "Lydia is your best friend. Don't you care about who it is she's dating?"

That last word alone used in reference to Lydia made Beetlejuice's skin crawl, and not in the way he liked. "Nah," he feigned disinterest. "I got bigger fish to fry." He changed into a frying pan and was suddenly crushed by a giant carp. The bizarre image vanished in the blink of an eye and he reappeared as himself as if nothing had happened, hovering in mid air with his arms folded. "Besides," he continued, "it probably won't last. The guy is probably just some jerk with more flashy, useless talent than brains. Lydia will see through that soon enough."

Ginger and The Monster Across The Street exchanged glances.

"Beetlejuice," the spider dared to venture, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous."

The dead man leaned down until he was only inches from her face. "Yeah, well, good thing you know better, octo-heels." He glowered at her long enough to dare her to say another word, then rapidly pulled away.

"Well, anyway, now that I got the scoop on Miss Lydia," the monster said, attempting to sound casual and break the obvious tension in the air, "I'd best be moseyin' back over to give my little Poopsie his bath. I'll see y'all later, Miss Ginger... Beetlejuice." He tipped his hat and ducked on his way out to avoid hitting his head in the doorway.

"Hopefully later than soooonerrrr," Beetlejuice drawled in a sing-song voice, slamming the door shut.

He floated across the room and settled himself back on the couch, the remote control appearing instantly in his hand as he resumed flipping through channels. Ginger observed him wordlessly from the spot he'd left her, feeling as though he'd genuinely forgotten she was even there. It was clear to her that it was more than mere boredom that fuelled these intense rounds of channel surfing he'd been engaged in all day. She watched him roll through the same line-up of stations over and over, his eyes fixed upon the television but having taken on a glazed, distant appearance that she wasn't used to seeing. He wasn't at all interested in what he was looking at. In fact, the spider could tell with little doubt that his mind wasn't even taking in what was on the screen. Maybe it was just the angle, but the more she looked at him, the more she began to think that he somehow seemed smaller than usual. It was a strange thought, but then she reminded herself that this was Beetlejuice she was observing.

Finally, deciding there was little more for her to see here, Ginger exited the scene on silent spider silk, leaving Beetlejuice completely alone with his thoughts. He failed to notice or care.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Lydia never called him the following day. Beetlejuice waited, albeit impatiently, expecting to be summoned at some point, but when the shadows grew long in the remains of the Neitherworld sun, he decided he wasn't going to hear the magic B-words that day. By nightfall, he took it upon himself to peek in on his friend through her dresser mirror, and was surprised to find the bedroom dark, as well as having his view partly obscured by an oversized bouquet of roses.

"That bonebrain," he muttered, peering around the flowers to see if Lydia was in her bed. His hopes were dashed when he found it vacant and undisturbed.

Beetlejuice sighed. He lingered at the glass, feeling like more of a ghost than ever before. Similarly, Lydia's room seemed bigger and emptier than usual, lit only by moonlight that streamed in through the window. It occurred to him that the moon had more of a presence in the room at that moment than he did, and he felt a sudden hollowness manifest somewhere in the pit of his stomach. It was a sense of emptiness that possessed its own gravity, like a black hole that swallowed up his insides and hungered for anything more within its pull.

His eyes fell on Lydia's clock. It was nearly half past ten. Where could she be at this hour? How long had he been loitering in her mirror already? He heaved another sigh, resting his forehead against the glass.

What may have been either minutes or hours later-he couldn't be sure-Beetlejuice's heart leaped when he finally heard the familiar voice coming from the other side of the bedroom door. He strained to listen and suddenly wished his ears weren't so jam-packed with six hundred years worth of wax. Along with Lydia's voice, he managed to identify that of her father. Old Chucky sounded happy, and the ghost couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing. Less than a minute later, he heard them wish each other goodnight and he practically quivered in anticipation, knowing that door would open any second now and his Lyds would be here with him. He pressed closer to the glass, so anxious to see her that he could almost taste it. At last, the door swung open and his best friend walked in, flipping on the light and tossing aside the purse she was carrying. Beetlejuice couldn't contain himself.

"BABES!"

"Beetlejuice?"

Lydia moved the roses out of the way and gazed into the mirror at her ghoulish friend. If she was completely honest, he didn't look so good, and that was saying something for a dead guy.

"Babes, where have you been?" The question was genuine and held no venom. "I thought you'd be here doin' homework."

"It's Friday night, Beej," she said. "I went with Sean to a late movie."

"Oh," Beetlejuice seemed to accept that answer. "I just expected to see you sometime today, that's all."

"Sorry about that, BJ," she told him with sincerity. "I ended up going straight from school to Sean's house. I'm sorry. I should have let you know."

"Aw, it's okay, babes," he forced himself to say, despite the feeling of some invisible constricting snake squeezing his chest. "Hey, how about those B-words, huh?"

Lydia smiled. "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

The spectre in the striped suit leaped from the mirror and Lydia immediately found herself in his arms, flying with him around the room. She giggled as they circled and dived, dipped and weaved in as many creative ways as the ghost could think of. When the record player started up on its own, Lydia was forced to put a stop to the fun.

"Beej, my parents," she said, but the smile never left her face.

"Oh, yeah," Beetlejuice remembered. "Sorry."

The music stopped and he set her down on her feet, grinning goofily at her as he continued to hover above. The fact that she had her dark hair up in a new style wasn't lost on him, nor did he fail to notice that she was wearing her make-up differently than usual. She also wore a sleek, black skirt and top outfit that was plenty modest but still highlighted her feminine figure. By human standards, Beetlejuice could tell she was very pretty, and for some reason that made him feel both a flash of pride and a stab of pain. Another part of him just found it plain disgusting.

"Did you see the roses Jacques sent?" she asked as she began working on taking her hair down.

"I saw TOO much of the roses Jacques sent," he groaned, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Lydia laughed. "He did go a little overboard," she admitted, casting a glance at the abnormally large bouquet, "but it was nice of him."

The two best friends spent the next half hour chatting as they often had in the past. Lydia did share some of the details about her evening with Sean, and Beetlejuice surprised even himself by how well he behaved during that part of the conversation. Finally, the girl was spending more time stifling yawns than speaking, so she reluctantly broke it to her companion that she needed to get some sleep.

"Okay, Lyds," he went along amiably without any argument. "I can tell you're really tired. Get some sleep, babes. G'night."

He waited for the B-words that would return him to the Neitherworld, but they didn't come. Instead, Lydia seemed to be mulling something over in her head.

"Babes?" he inquired.

"Beetlejuice," she said finally, and he prepared for two more. "Would you stay here with me tonight?"

That was unexpected.

"Sure, Lyds," he said with uncertainty. "If ya really want me to."

"You don't have to stay all night if you don't want to," Lydia added. "It would just be nice to know you're there when I fall asleep."

"Anything ya want," he said, a clear note of confusion in his voice.

"Thanks, BJ," she said, smiling. "I need to get dressed for bed, so if you could..."

"No problem," he replied.

Rather than turn his back, he used his magic to put a dressing screen between them. Lydia noticed the wooden panels of the screen were adorned with stylized paintings of serpents and dragons, and she found herself admiring the artistry.

"Deadly vu," she murmured.

A few minutes later, Lydia was settled comfortably in bed, more than ready for sleep. From his floating position at her bedside, Beetlejuice snapped his fingers and the light went out, enveloping the room in blackness. Hovering there in the dark, he listened to the gentle rhythm of her breathing, his mind replaying similar scenes from the past when she was younger. She hadn't asked him to stay with her through the night since the days of being afraid to sleep after watching scary movies. He wondered what movie the nose-picker had taken her to see.

"You can go as soon as I fall asleep if you want to," her sleepy voice startled him from his thoughts.

"Hey, babes," he began hesitantly, "I forgot to ask ya... what movie did you see tonight?"

"Oh," Lydia paused to yawn. "It was called Sunshine Of Love."

Beetlejuice silently gagged. That WAS scary.

"G'night, Beej."

"G'night, Lyds."

Less than five minutes later, she was snoring softly. He stayed all night.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

The first time Beetlejuice actually saw Sean Molson, it was through unexpected circumstances. Following an evening of music and dancing, Lydia had summoned her ghostly companion after Sean dropped her off at her house, and the two friends were spending some time lounging on the patio in the cool of the night. Lydia was just in the middle of telling BJ what she thought was a funny story from that day, when headlights came up the drive and a familiar car wheeled into view.

"It's Sean," Lydia said, wondering why he'd come back. "You'd better hide, Beej."

Beetlejuice frowned but obeyed, disappearing from sight by becoming part of the line of Delia's bizarrely painted, handmade clay flower pots that sat nearby. Meanwhile, Sean had gotten out of his car and was walking towards the house.

"Lydia!" he called out. "You forgot your spider brooch!"

The black and white striped flower pot's ears pricked up. The spider brooch HE had given her for their first anniversary?

"Oh, gosh," Lydia said, descending the steps and meeting the young man halfway. "Thank you, Sean. You didn't have to come back tonight to give it to me. It could've waited until tomorrow."

"Yeah," he said, placing the brooch in her hands, "but I didn't want you to remember it before bed tonight and worry that it might be lost. You might not have been able to sleep."

"That was very thoughtful of you," Lydia replied sincerely, smiling up at him.

Beetlejuice observed them from his hiding place and growled to himself. He tried to get a good look at this kid. Sean was tall - considerably taller than himself, he could tell that for sure - with a slim build, strong features and a mop of brown hair. Casually dressed, he sported a plain white t-shirt and loose fitting blue jeans, and the ghost caught the glint from a watch on the boy's left wrist. He also wore glasses that reflected the patio light, making his eyes impossible to see from a distance. Beetlejuice had to resist the urge to remove them with his magic and revel in the fear he knew would be in the eyes beneath. The thought alone made him snicker.

As the teen couple talked for a few minutes, once again going over what fun they'd had together that same evening, the 'ghost with the most' found his patience wearing thin and slowly discovered himself becoming more nauseated. Finally, after several more excruciating minutes, he decided this conversation had taken long enough, and he made the light flicker to remind Lydia that he was there.

"Well, I guess it's getting late," the girl told her boyfriend. She had clearly received the message.

"Yep, I should get going," Sean agreed, glancing at his watch, but still he lingered.

Beetlejuice could see them standing there awkwardly, staring at each other, and he wondered what in the Neitherworld they were waiting for. He got his answer when the distance between the two teens closed and they shared a chaste kiss. If he hadn't been a flower pot at that moment, he would've stumbled over backwards and fallen on his backside in shock. Instead, something inside him snapped and his powers seemed to lash out on their own, knocking over the entire line of other pots like a series of dominoes. Lydia and Sean whirled, their eyes wide and darting back and forth as they searched for the source of the noise. Lydia immediately noticed her mother's flower pots could no longer be seen sitting on the patio, and she directed a glare at the one remaining crock with the black and white stripes.

"What was that?!" Sean asked.

"Oh, my mom's pottery fell over again," Lydia fumbled for an excuse. "The patio isn't level and she arranges them in such a way that's more artistic than practical. If one falls over, they all do."

"Oh," said Sean. "But that one didn't." He pointed at the lone pot with the stripes.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "That one's full of something," (was it ever), "so it's weighted down. The others are empty."

"Oh," Sean said again. "Well, let me help you clean them up." He started for the patio, but Lydia stopped him.

"No, no, no," she stammered. "It's okay! Mother and I will take care of it together in the morning."

"If you're sure," he said, looking uncertain.

"Thank you, anyway," the girl added, forcing a smile.

"Well, goodnight, Lydia," Sean said, reluctantly walking to his car.

"Goodnight, Sean. Thanks again."

She watched him get in and make his way down the drive, nervously twiddling her thumbs behind her back. When the car reached the road and pulled out, she spun around.

"BEETLEJUICE!"

"Baaaabes, it was an accident!" the ghost whined, instantly appearing before her.

"Oh, right, Beetlejuice!" she snapped. "At the exact moment when..." she felt her face redden from something other than anger, "at THAT exact moment?! You expect me to believe that?!"

"Come on, Lyds!" the dead man pleaded. "I'm bein' honest here!"

Lydia stormed over to examine the mess of shattered pottery that lay strewn on the ground below the patio. A couple pieces were still intact, but her heart sank to see that most were completely destroyed. Her mother would assume a cat or raccoon had knocked them over during the night, but the poor woman would still be upset.

"Besides," Beetlejuice was going on, "if I were gonna do somethin' to interfere, it woulda been a lot more creative. I wonder if he's ever had a tapeworm! Heh, heh, heh! Or a nest of termites in his sock drawer! HA, HA, HA!"

Lydia was in no mood for this and she whirled on him, grabbing him roughly by his tie. "I don't want you interfering at all!" she snarled. "Do you understand? You have no right!"

The ghoul's expression changed from surprise at her sudden attack to one of anger. "I actually wish I HAD done it, now," he said, only inches from her face as she still gripped his tie, "since you're not gonna believe me." He disappeared, leaving her empty-handed and quickly reappeared a few feet away. "Just who does that little bucket of skunks think he is, anyway? Puttin' the moves on ya like that..."

"He's my BOYFRIEND!" Lydia exclaimed, outraged at her friend's lack of respect for Sean. "And it wasn't 'the moves'! It was one kiss!"

Beetlejuice scowled. He looked at her hard, as if scrutinizing her in search of some hidden piece of information. "I'm not so sure," he said finally, folding his arms and sticking his nose in the air.

Under different circumstances, Lydia might have laughed at his display of almost parental disapproval. She was reminded of a time years ago when Doomie had fallen in love with Mayor Maynot's car, Pinky, and Beetlejuice began acting like an overbearing father. Somehow, she found it a lot more endearing back then than it was now.

"BJ, it was a simple kiss," she told him, trying to soften her tone. "Even my father would be okay with it."

"A kiss, huh?" his voice held an odd note that made Lydia feel strangely uncomfortable.

"Yes! You saw!"

"So why weren't ya wearin' your spider brooch?" he asked with an accusatory air.

She was taken aback by this seemingly unrelated question. "Huh?"

"You heard me, babes. How'd it come off?"

"'Come off'?" she repeated. "What..." Lydia's dark eyes widened as she began to understand what he was getting at. "What are you insinuating, Beetlejuice?"

"Tell me how it came off, Lyds," he demanded stubbornly.

The girl forced herself to take a deep breath before she dared respond. "It 'came off'," she ground out through clenched teeth, "when I TOOK it off so I wouldn't lose it while dancing!"

The ghost changed himself into Sherlock Homely, one of his favourite alter egos. "And how did the brooch come into the possession of Mr. Molson?" he asked in his phony British accent.

"Sean kept it in his pocket for me," Lydia growled, finding it more and more difficult to control her temper. "I wasn't carrying my purse while we were dancing, and I didn't have any other pockets. WHAT are you trying to suggest?"

"In his pocket, you say?" the ugly detective asked, pretending to ponder that information. "In which pocket EXACTLY was it contained?"

"Beetlejuice, this is getting tedious!"

"And," he went on, "did he place it there himself? Or did he make YOU do it for him?"

That was it. Lydia was seeing red now. In her anger, she took the very brooch from where she'd put it in her purse and threw it at him, striking the haughty ghoul in the forehead. Beetlejuice yelped, much to her satisfaction, and shot her a look of surprise.

"I've had enough of this! Until you learn to stop acting like such a jealous, arrogant, disrespectful, hard-headed BUG-BRAIN," she shouted at him, "you can take your brooch and your attitude back to the Neitherworld! I'm through talking to you, Beetlejuice!... Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

Just before he vanished from her world, Lydia saw the look of utter hurt that was clear upon his face. As angry as she was, when she saw that expression, she couldn't deny it to herself that some part of her felt ashamed. She was just so frustrated with him, so outraged by his low opinion of Sean, and so offended by his implications... but wounding her best friend certainly hadn't been on her list of things to do that day. She was torn between feeling she'd dealt him his just deserts and feeling like she'd kicked a rather stupid puppy. Alone in the night, she sat down on the patio steps and began to cry.

"Pumpkin?" a gentle voice soon called out to her.

She looked up to see her father standing in the open door.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" he asked, concerned. "I thought I heard you yelling out here."

Lydia hoped he couldn't see her tears. "Oh, I'm fine, Dad," she lied. "I was yelling to scare away some raccoons. They knocked over Mom's flower pots."

Charles Deetz craned his neck, trying to see over the edge of the patio where the broken pottery lay. "Oh, no... Delia's not gonna be pleased about this."

"I tried to stop them," Lydia shrugged apologetically. "I think I probably just made it worse." She felt an ache in her heart as her own words seemed to mean something different to her.

"Well, you know your mother," he responded optimistically. "She'll see it as an opportunity to make new and better ones. She's not one to pass up a chance to do something... artistic."

Lydia gave him a half-hearted smile. Even in the poor lighting and with his middle-aged eyes, Charles made out the mascara running down her cheeks.

"Pumpkin, are you crying?" he asked, his voice full of concern. "What's wrong?"

He made his way down the steps and sat next to her, putting a loving arm around her shoulders. Lydia had no idea what to tell him. She racked her brain for some sort of believable excuse, but was still too fraught with conflicting emotions from the previous events to think straight. Instead, she ended up throwing her arms around him and crying against his shoulder. Charles held his daughter tight, rubbing her back with one hand in an attempt to soothe her, but desperately wondering what the problem was.

"Is it Sean?" he asked gently.

Lydia shook her head against him. "No," she sniffled. "No, I... I'm not even sure what's wrong." It was still a lie, but it was better than coming up with a more elaborate story. "I guess I'm just a little overwhelmed with everything that's been going on lately," she added. That much was essentially true, but there was no way she could go into detail.

"Like what, honey?"

"Just... growing-up stuff," she said.

That answer seemed to be an acceptable one. "Oh, I see," her father said.

They sat quiet for some time, Lydia slowly relaxing as she drew comfort from her dad's calming presence, even if he really didn't understand what was going on. Just the knowledge that he was there holding her and that he loved her was like a security blanket that warmed her from the inside out.

"Hey, sweetie," he finally said. "Don't tell your mom, but I've got a can of instant hot chocolate stashed away in the house. How 'bout we go inside and have us each a cup? Maybe it'll help make you feel better."

Lydia managed a smile. Her dad was supposed to be dieting, but she knew he kept some goodies around for when her mother wasn't looking. The whole diet thing was a charade that had been going on for years. If they were both honest, they knew Delia was probably aware of it, anyway.

"I'd like that, Dad," Lydia said.

Charles stood and offered her his hand with a smile. She took it and he gently pulled her up to stand next to him. Then, still hand-in-hand, they ascended the steps of the patio together and went into the house.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

"Bonjour, Monsieur Monster!" Jacques LaLean called out in a cheerful voice, waving enthusiastically at The Monster Across The Street. The French skeleton was just returning from his morning jog and was feeling especially chipper. "It is a beautiful morning, no?"

The monster looked up from his garden of cacti. "It sure is, partner!" he called back, smiling and waving in return with a hand-spade. Beside him, Poopsie gave a friendly wag of his cattle-brand tail.

Jacques beamed, keeping up his pace right until he reached the roadhouse door. There, he paused to take his non-existent pulse and got to work putting a few bones back into place, quite accustomed to the fact that he always lost some when he jogged. It really was a beautiful day in the Neitherworld, and the skeleton felt as if nothing could go wrong. Once he was sure his frame was complete again, he opened the door and stepped inside, a huge smile still plastered on his fleshless face.

The mood changed in an instant. Jacques had to hold onto his jawbone to keep it from falling off at the sight before him.

"Sacrebleu! Be-atlejuice, what 'ave you done?!" he cried.

The interior of the building they shared was completely trashed, more so even than usual. The furniture was piled in awkward heaps with the upholstery torn and stuffing hauled out; BJ's tv had been tipped over and smashed where it stood, probably beyond repair; and the refrigerator lay open on its side, its contents spewing out onto the floor and causing a massive stench to permeate every room. Rugs and curtains were in shreds, clocks and pictures were off the walls, and books and other items were strewn everywhere, the shelf surfaces on which they previously rested having been ripped from their brackets. It was a scene that resembled something out of a post-apocalyptic war movie.

"I tried to stop him!" Ginger whined, crawling out from under an overturned garbage can that she'd obviously used for protection. Her normally rosy pink arachnid body was marred by dust and filth. "He just went berzerk!"

"But why?!" Jacques asked urgently, his hands held to his skull in despair.

"I don't know!" the spider exclaimed. "All I did was ask him how Lydia was doing with her boyfriend!"

This worried the skeleton a bit. "Where is Be-atlejuice now?" he wanted to know.

Ginger genuinely wasn't sure, as she had spent those last chaotic moments in hiding. She didn't answer, but rather glanced around, looking for a sign of him. Jacques, too, was casting his eyes all about. Quickly convinced that the ghost wasn't among the mess before them, he dared to go take a peek in Beetlejuice's bedroom, discovering the door partway open. Ginger followed at his heels, and both were disheartened to find that that room had been destroyed as well. However, the dead man's coffin bed still remained in place, and in it lied the spectre himself.

In the shadowy gloom of his deliberately darkened chamber, Beetlejuice more closely resembled Prince Vince than his usual vivacious self. He was on his back, eyes closed, one arm hanging limply over the edge of the bed, and the other thrown dramatically over his forehead. Neither Jacques or Ginger could ever remember seeing him so still. Even when he slept, he snored loudly and made other gross noises. Enhanced by the disturbingly cold, grave-like atmosphere of the room, the scene was highly unsettling.

"Be-atlejuice?" Jacques queried, his gentle voice sounding like thunder in the unnatural stillness.

There was no response.

"Beetlejuice, are you okay?" Ginger tried, hopefully. She knew she had kept her tone soft, but it seemed to ring out like a bell.

Nothing.

Hesitantly, Jacques took the first steps to the bedside. Ginger followed and climbed up his bony back to peer over his shoulder, clinging to the skeleton's too-loose blue shirt. Beetlejuice never stirred as they both gazed down at him, so Jacques steeled himself and dared to reach out and touch one black and white striped arm. While the ghost's neighbours were truly concerned, they were all too familiar with his pranks, and there was always the possibility that this was one of them. However, nothing happened. The dead man continued to lie there like the corpse he was, which would've been just fine if he wasn't normally such an animated fellow, dead or not. Jacques tried shaking his shoulder, gently at first, then harder when he received no response. It seemed to be of no use.

"What's in his hand?" Ginger wondered, pointing at the loosely clenched fist at the end of the arm that was draped across his forehead.

"Je ne sais pas," Jacques replied, reaching for said hand. He pried away the red-tipped fingers with little effort to reveal a vaguely familiar piece of jewellery.

"Isn't that Lydia's spider brooch?" the real spider asked.

"Ah, oui," said the skeleton, a new note of worry in his voice. "Zis does belong to petite Lydia. If I am not mistaken, Be-atlejuice was ze one zat gave it to her."

They both went silent. The figure in the bed remained motionless.

"Oooh, I don't like the looks of this, Jacques," Ginger finally said, wringing her twiggy hands. "I think something must really be wrong."

"Moi, as well, Ginger," her bony companion agreed. "Zis is, how you say... abnormal."

"Yeah," she added, "even for Beetlejuice."

They fell silent again, and Jacques closed the lax fingers around the brooch once more. With a gentle respect he never figured he'd be demonstrating towards the normally intolerable prankster, he placed the cool, lifeless hand on Beetlejuice's chest so it rested over the ghoul's heart.

"What can we do?" Ginger asked, feeling helpless.

"Perhaps nothing," replied Jacques. "We will just 'ave to see if Be-atlejuice pulls 'imself out of zis."

"Maybe we should call Lydia," the spider suggested.

Jacques shook his skull. "Non, je ne crois pas, Ginger. Zis 'as somezing to do with Lydia's romance, I think."

The big, pink arachnid looked puzzled. "How can you be sure?"

"I feel it in my bones," the skeleton said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

They agreed to wait and see.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

A full week after her fight with Beetlejuice, Lydia Deetz was feeling pretty low. After two full weeks, she was downright miserable. She'd had plenty of uninterrupted time to spend with Sean during that period, for which she was grateful, but she was finding it very difficult to have fun when thoughts of her best friend and the harshness of their last exchange kept hijacking her mind. Part of her was still angry with him, but another part just wanted things to be resolved. She knew she could forgive the ghost; she just wasn't sure if he was willing to forgive her. After all, she'd not heard a peep from him since it happened. It wasn't at all like Beetlejuice to hold out that long, at least not where Lydia was concerned. Could he really be that angry with her? Lydia replayed the events of that night in her head again. She recalled her friend's face when she sent him away. No, he hadn't been angry at that point. He'd only been hurt.

As she sat in her bedroom working unenthusiastically on math problems, too distracted by her thoughts to be productive, there came a flicker in the dresser mirror. Lydia looked up from her books, feeling a sudden rush of excitement. Had her mind somehow been read? Her heart thumped in anticipation as a distorted image formed in the glass and materialized into...

"Jacques?"

"Oui, Lydia," said the skeleton in the mirror. "C'est moi."

"What's going on?" she immediately asked, noting the worried expression on the skull that gazed back at her. It was also just highly unusual for him to contact her, so red flags were instantly raised at his unexpected appearance.

Jacques removed his scarlet beret, twisting it nervously in his bony fingers. "We 'ad 'oped somezing would change on its own," he began hesitantly, "but it 'as been two weeks..."

A knot formed in Lydia's stomach. "What is it, Jacques?"

"Zere is somezing wrong with Be-atlejuice," he said. "He 'as not moved from ze bed. In fact, ze poor fellow 'as not moved at all."

Lydia didn't need to hear any more. "I'm coming right over."

Three B-words later, the girl was racing for BJ's Roadhouse in the eerie light of the Neitherworld moon as fast as her legs would carry her. Jacques met her at the door and began filling her in on the rest of the details, including Beetlejuice's violent outburst in front of Ginger two weeks prior.

"We 'ave tidied and repaired what we could here," he explained, gesturing at the main interior, "not zat it was ever tidy before," he added, "but ze bedroom is still a complete disaster." He led her to the closed door that concealed the horror within. "I know you are used to Be-atlejuice's filthy 'abits, but ze destruction in zis room will probably come as a shock to vous."

"I'm prepared," she said dismissively. "Just let me see him."

The skeleton said no more, opening the bedroom door and stepping aside to grant Lydia passage.

Jacques was right. Even in the low light, she could see the place was a disaster area. Lydia couldn't remember ever seeing it look so bad. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew Beetlejuice would actually be proud of that fact. However, none of that was her main concern right now. She was drawn only to the figure in the coffin bed, and her feet carried her to his side before she'd even realized she was moving.

"Beetlejuice?" the name escaped her lips automatically as she took the hand that dangled limply near the floor. "Beej, can you hear me?"

His eyes remained closed, his face void of expression.

"It's Lydia, BJ," she told the unresponsive ghoul. "I need you to wake up."

Not even a flicker of movement. No sign that he'd heard or was even at all conscious that she was there.

Lydia reached for his other hand that remained settled over his heart. When she lifted it, the loosely clutched fingers went completely slack and something fell from their grip, landing back on her seemingly comatose friend's chest. She felt her blood run cold as she recognized her spider brooch sitting there, glinting at her as it caught some of the light spilling in from the open door. Once again, the fight replayed in her mind, and she saw herself throwing that very piece of jewellery at him. She recalled following it with a string of insults, although she couldn't remember her exact words, and finally banishing him. As she looked at him now, lying there so still and lifeless, she felt her dark eyes well up with tears.

"Oh, Beej, I'm sorry," she said, struggling to hold herself together. She wasn't ready to break down just yet. "Please, just wake up."

He did not stir.

Lydia hesitated, then picked up the brooch and fastened it to her red poncho.

"Look," she told him. "It's back where it belongs. See, BJ? Wake up and see!"

In the chilling silence that followed, the girl was quickly losing grip on her emotions. She bent forward and tried to hug him, but found herself half lying on top of him instead as she lost the battle with her tears. Her hands clutched at his jacket and she buried her face against him, her eyes dampening his magenta dress shirt with trickles of liquid grief.

"I'm sorry, Beetlejuice," she whispered. "I'm sorry I hurt you. I was just so angry that night. And hurt, too. But no matter how angry or hurt I was, what I said and did to you was no way to treat a friend. Especially not a best friend. Please, BJ, just wake up and speak to me."

There came a rumble against her chest and Lydia froze. A second later, it came again, emanating from somewhere in the vicinity of Beetlejuice's stomach.

"Beej?"

There it was a third time, louder and higher up. Lydia found herself holding her breath. She pulled away with wide eyes as the sound became constant, climbing in pitch as it seemed to be moving up her friend's torso. When a visible bulge appeared in his throat, she drew back in fear, having no idea what was about to happen. She watched, unable to look away, as the bulge crept higher and the pitch of the sound reached a peak before it stopped abruptly, creating an eerily silent pause that gave Lydia just enough time to blink in wonder.

Suddenly, Beetlejuice's jaw fell open and a humongous belch spewed forth, knocking the girl over backwards and making the entire roadhouse quake from top to bottom. Jacques and Ginger cried out in panic as they were violently shaken and thrown about elsewhere in the building, along with all the furniture and other things they'd worked so hard to repair and replace.

Across the street, The Monster looked up from his camp fire in surprise as the thunderous noise echoed through the night and the shock-wave blew his hat right off his head and into the flames. "What in tar-hooties?!" he cried, dropping the banjo he'd been strumming to leap up and rescue his favourite article of clothing from being consumed before his eyes. Poopsie ran for the safety of his doghouse, barking in confusion at the terrible sound and unseen force that had bowled him over.

When the deafening roar finally came to an end and the dust began to settle in the roadhouse, Lydia picked herself up from the rubble and squinted into the haze that filled the bedroom. To her great joy and relief, Beetlejuice was sitting up in bed, blinking sleepily as if he'd only woken from a nap.

"BJ!" she exclaimed and launched herself forward, throwing her arms around the dazed dead man in a hug so tight it would make a python jealous.

"Lyds?" he croaked. "What happened, babes?"

"I could ask you the same thing!" she told him. "What do you remember?"

She released her grip on his body and drew back, searching his yellow eyes as he struggled to recover his memory. It was such a relief to see him conscious and moving again, she couldn't help but smile, even as she continued to feel a pang of worry.

"I remember watchin' The Life And Slime Of Clammy Davis Jr.," he finally said, looking rather blank.

"Is that all?" Lydia asked.

"No," he said. He paused and thought for a moment. "I remember talkin' to that eight-legged pink football..."

"And?" she pressed, ignoring his less-than-complimentary reference to Ginger.

"And... oh," he said, recalling how the spider had asked him about Lydia, and suddenly all the prior events came flooding back to him.

Lydia saw his sad, somewhat guilty expression. He tried to turn away from her, but she reached up and put a hand gently but firmly on his cheek to keep his face directed towards hers. He looked downwards, unable to meet her eyes, and his gaze fell on the spider brooch that clung to her poncho.

"You're wearin' it again," he said softly.

"Yes, I am," she said. "Beetlejuice... about that fight... the things I said..."

"Naw, babes," he interrupted her, "I should be the one apologizin'. And you KNOW I like sayin' that about as much as takin' a bath."

"We both said some things that were very wrong," she said, understanding. "And I've been thinking about Mom's flower pots... I believe you."

Beetlejuice looked up. "You do?"

"Yes. I don't think you did it on purpose. You're right, you're way too creative for that."

"Aw, shucks, babes," the ghost almost blushed, a smile creeping onto his corpse-like features.

"But I need you to believe me, too," she continued. "Sean is a really good guy, BJ. He never tried anything with me. All we shared was that one kiss."

Beetlejuice's face fell back into an expression of guilt. "Yeah... I think I knew that," he admitted grudgingly. "I was just so... so..."

"Jealous?" Lydia offered.

"Confused," he settled for. "And shocked. I know you're growin' up and all that, but it's kinda hard to get used to some stuff... Know what I mean?"

"Yeah," she said. "I know what you mean. Especially for someone as over-protective as you are."

"Only towards you, babes," the ghost was quick to say.

Lydia nearly giggled at that, knowing Beetlejuice would deny any accusations of caring about anyone other than herself.

"Besides," he added, "I said I'd be there to protect ya."

"True," she said, "but I'll let you know when I actually NEED protecting, okay, BJ?" She gave him a warm smile.

"Okay, Lyds," he conceded, offering a goofy grin in return.

She hugged him, then helped him out of his coffin bed. Beetlejuice stretched and groaned, feeling the effects of his two-week hiatus of motionlessness.

"Whoa, I guess I WAS out for a while," he grunted.

"Two weeks," Lydia told him. "And... actually, BJ, I've had a lot of time to think during that time..."

"Uh oh," he said with a hint of dread.

"I've been thinking it would be good for you to actually meet Sean," she said.

"Ohhhh!" he let out happily, slapping his forehead with relief. Then he paused. "Wait... What?"

"I think if you met him personally and got to know him a little," Lydia explained, "you'd be more comfortable with the whole thing. We both would."

Beetlejuice was suddenly filled with anxiety. "Now, uh, wait a minute, babes," he said, fidgeting nervously and fiddling with his tie. "I can't meet your boyfriend."

"Why not?" Lydia asked. "My parents have met him already, and you're my best friend. It's really only fair that you should meet him."

He felt himself break out in a sweat. "But I'm... uh... a GHOST," he stammered, searching for an excuse. "You can't let your boyfriend meet a ghost, babes."

"You can meet him as Mr. Beetleman," she said. "Or Betty. Come on, Beej. I really think it'll help put your mind at ease about him."

"I dunno, Lyds... I've got this thing I gotta do soon... and some people comin' over about the snakes in the attic, and-"

"Beetlejuice..."

He threw his head back and sighed dramatically, shoulders sagging.

"You'll do it?" Lydia asked, hopefully.

"Fiiiiiine," he ground out.

"You'll have to be on your best behaviour, of course," she suddenly added.

"AW, COME ON, BABES!"

"Well!" she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Seriously, BJ... I think it's important that we do this, and it will definitely be for your benefit, but you have to promise me you'll behave, too."

"You're killin' me..." he moaned. "All over again..."

Lydia clasped her hands in front of her chest and looked up at him with her big, dark eyes. "Pleeease?" she begged, just as she did when she was a little girl.

"ALRIIIIIIIGHT!" he whined, giving in and throwing his hands up in defeat. "But don't expect me to like him! This goes against every FIBRE of my being!" He turned into a giant bran muffin and Lydia laughed.

At that moment, a bedraggled Jacques appeared in the doorway with an equally dishevelled Ginger on his shoulder.

"Heeeyyy," Beetlejuice greeted them. "You two are lookin' GREAT!"

"Be-atlejuice, you are okay?" Jacques asked.

"I'm fine, bone-breath," the ghost replied confidently, vanishing from Lydia's side to reappear next to the skeleton. He stuck his head out past his neighbours and saw the new destruction left in the wake of his belch. "LOVE what you've done with the place!"

Jacques and Ginger groaned. He was definitely back to his old, disgusting self again.


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"I don't think I can do this, Lyds," Beetlejuice was muttering nervously.

"You'll be fine, BJ," his friend assured him, rechecking her hair and make-up. "Besides, with Mom and Dad there, you won't have to struggle to maintain the conversation."

"Yeah, but dinner with your parents is gross enough all by itself," the ghost complained. "How am I supposed to get through this when Sean Juan will probably be sittin' there makin' poo-poo eyes at ya from across the table?"

"I think you mean goo-goo eyes," Lydia corrected him. "And don't worry. This will probably be pretty nerve-racking for Sean, too. It's his first time coming over for dinner, you know."

"Maybe, if we're lucky, it'll also be his last," came a mumbled response.

"Beetlejuice..."

"I know! I know!" he waved his hands to ward off the warning he knew was coming. "I'm just tryin' to let off a little steam," he turned into a tea kettle, "before I hafta swallow all the good manners and polite conversation I gotta face downstairs! Not to mention your mom's meatloaf... Pfft!"

"Actually, we're having lasagna," she informed him.

"Ohhh, wellllll, this changes EVERYthing," grumbled the ghost, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Lydia ignored him. She was busy fastening a delicate silver chain around her neck that featured a tiny pewter bat pendant.

"There," she said finally, after having struggled with the clasp. "How do I look?"

Her friend watched as she did a little twirl before him. The deep purple dress she'd chosen flowed with her graceful movements like the waves of a calm sea, while her hair, worn loose, caught the light in a glossy shine that resembled a curtain of fine, black satin. Her eyes sparkled with youthful vibrance, and Beetlejuice felt a familiar ache return in the pit of his gut. He suddenly felt very old and very dead.

"Like a million bucks, babes," he told her, and Lydia smiled appreciatively.

"OH, LYDIAAAAA!" Delia Deetz's shrill call came from downstairs. "YOUR SWEETHEART IS HEEEEERE!"

The two friends locked eyes for a moment in a wordless exchange of mutual anxiety. BJ gulped, and the girl - no... young woman - took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Coming, Mother!" she called back. "Are you ready, Beej?"

"No," he said honestly.

"Me neither," she admitted. "Let's go."

Lydia headed out her bedroom door while Beetlejuice zapped himself into the still unoccupied dining room as planned. Seconds after he popped in, an unsuspecting Charles Deetz entered, spewing the water he'd been drinking when he laid eyes on the unexpected guest.

"Mr. Beetleman?!" he sputtered. "When did YOU get here?!"

"Oh, is Mr. Beetleman here already?" Delia called cheerfully from the kitchen. "I didn't see him come in!"

"I didn't even know he was coming," Charles said, his voice tinged with an element of alarm.

"Surprise, ol' Chuckster," Beetlejuice teased, knowing he was the last person Lydia's father wanted to see that evening.

Delia walked in carrying a covered casserole dish. "Lydia invited him," she told her husband, smiling pleasantly in BJ's direction. "She and Sean are going to use his chauffeur service to go to the theatre after dinner. Isn't that a sweet idea?"

"WHAT?!" Beetlejuice yelped, far louder than intended. Met with puzzled expressions, he immediately tried to cover up. "I... I mean... What... better way to spend the evening?" He hoped they couldn't see the sweat that had formed on his brow.

Charles continued to look confused, as well as apprehensive, but Delia was oblivious as ever, returning to the business of getting dinner on the table with a sickeningly sweet smile. BJ mopped his forehead with his sleeve. He was going to GET Lydia for this.

From the hall, Lydia's voice soon reached his ears, and was joined a moment later by that of Sean Molson. The ghost felt a surge of panic, and he briefly considered ditching the whole thing and disappearing at the first opportunity. It was too late for that, though, for the girl soon entered the room with her boyfriend in tow. There was no chance of escape now.

"You've already met my parents," she was saying to Sean, gesturing at her mom and dad.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Deetz," the smartly dressed young man greeted them politely. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Oh, he's such a darling!" Delia cooed. "It's absolutely wonderful of you to join us for dinner, Sean!"

"Good to see you again, too, Sean," Charles said, extending his hand so the boy could shake it. Then he lifted it to his face and whispered behind, "The lasagna is great, but don't try the salad. Trust me."

"And this," Lydia continued, turning towards Beetlejuice, "is Mr. Beetleman. He's been a friend of the family for years. Mr. Beetleman, this is my boyfriend, Sean."

The young man stepped forward and presented Beetlejuice with his hand. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Beetleman."

The ghost cringed and hesitated but took the offered hand and shook it, albeit with little enthusiasm. His muscles were tense with anxiety and revulsion, causing the motion to be stiff and unyielding.

"Nice to meet you, Sean..." he forced out, sounding rather robotic, "Mould-scum, is it?"

"Molson," the kid corrected, cringing slightly himself at the foul interpretation of his last name.

Lydia, in full observation of this first interaction between them, refrained from slapping her forehead and reminded herself that it could be going a lot worse.

Meanwhile, Charles had settled into the chair at the head of the table. "Have a seat, kids," he said.

Beetlejuice looked on in disgust as Sean pulled a chair out for Lydia in true gentlemanly fashion. Five minutes into this miserable evening and he already felt on the verge of barfing, and he hadn't even tasted Delia's cooking yet.

"Mr. Beetleman?" Charles gestured at the chair to his right.

BJ reluctantly moved to the table and sat down. Fortunately, he was next to Lydia, but he'd be stuck looking at Delia and Mould-scum across the table all through dinner. That knowledge made him queasier.

"We need to talk later," the ghost leaned over and whispered to his best friend. Part of him was boiling inside at not being told about this chauffeur plan. He had half a mind to have his revenge right here. Some salamanders in the supper would serve her right.

"I know what it's about," Lydia whispered back, "and I can explain."

"Well, is everybody hungry?" Delia chirped as she put the salad on the table and removed the cover from the lasagna. "I've prepared my special salad just for tonight, so dig in! There's plenty for everyone!"

Charles made a dive for the main dish and started serving, eager to avoid his wife's aforementioned specialty. Sean and Lydia shared a knowing smile.

When everyone had something on their plate, the circus of sickening sweetness commenced, and Beetlejuice began wishing he could get away with literally melting through the floor. He spent the next ten minutes poking at his food in disgruntled silence as the Deetz parents engaged Lydia's boyfriend in friendly, light-hearted conversation, asking the boy about school, his artwork and his band. Lydia herself seemed to be having a good time, which only served to rekindle the fires of BJ's jealousy and cause him further aggravation. When Sean complimented Delia's lasagna, the dead man couldn't stifle an audible gag and Lydia elbowed him in the ribs.

"You've been awfully quiet, Mr. Beetleman," Delia was suddenly smiling directly at him from the other side of the table. "Are you enjoying your dinner?"

"Oh, yeeesss, Mrs. D.," Beetlejuice lied, forging an exaggerated smile of his own. "I've never tasted ANYTHING like what you've done with this dish. Truly amazing, I gotta say."

Delia beamed. The sarcasm was lost on everyone but Lydia, who shielded her face with her hand so no one would see she was rolling her eyes.

"So, what show are you kids seeing tonight?" Charles asked the teen couple.

"It's a local production of Romeo And Juliet," Sean answered. "My band has played in the same venue before, so I know the guy that runs the place. He was nice enough to get us advance tickets for tonight, so we'll have good seats and everything."

"Oh, isn't that marvellous?" Delia purred. "I've read some of the reviews from previous nights! It's such a wonderful, romantic play!"

"Don't they DIE in the end of that one?" Beetlejuice grumbled darkly. Lydia stomped on his foot under the table and he nearly choked on his next mouthful of lasagna.

"They do, Mr. Beetleman," said Sean, "but the journey towards that final tragedy is a spectacle to behold. It's a great piece of drama."

"It's a great piece of SOMETHING," the ghost muttered into his plate.

Lydia was becoming irritated with him. "Why, Mr. Beetleman, I thought you LIKED Shakespeare," she said with an edge of warning.

Beetlejuice turned to meet her eyes. "Well, it doesn't really matter what I like or don't like, since I'm not goin' with ya, huh? Apparently I'll be DRIVIN' ya," he stressed, "but that's not quite the same, is it?"

Lydia's face flushed.

"And how sweet of you to cancel your other calls just to have dinner with us beforehand!" Delia chimed in, totally oblivious to the underlying tension between her daughter and the man in the striped suit.

"That reminds me..." Lydia said quickly, seeing an opportunity and seizing it. "Mr. Beetleman, can I see you a moment? I'd like to talk to you about your rates." She grabbed Beetlejuice by the arm and dragged him from the table, leaving Sean and her parents looking a bit bewildered.

Alone in the hall, they regarded each other openly with matching scowls.

"Beetlejuice, you're starting!" Lydia hissed, keeping her voice low.

"ME?!" the dead man blurted, and she hurriedly shushed him. He clapped a hand over his own mouth, then tried again in a whisper. "Me?! You never told me anything about chauffeuring you and Prince Puke-inducer in there around town!"

"I had to have an excuse for you to be here!" she told him. "It would've looked too strange any other way!"

"Ya just finished tellin' me upstairs that I wouldn't even hafta worry about holdin' a conversation," he spat, "and now you're tellin' me I'm s'posed to drive your little date wagon?! You're takin' advantage of me, babes! I won't do it!"

Lydia grabbed her purse from the side table and jammed her hand inside. She hauled out a wad of bills and shoved them forcefully under her friend's nose.

"Here!" she said. "I didn't expect you to do it for free!"

Beetlejuice's fierce objections came to a grinding halt as he carefully gathered the money in his hands. With wide eyes, he slowly thumbed through the cash, counting it silently.

"It's the same amount we'd have paid any local chauffeur," she told him. "Plus, there's a little extra for your trouble. And you get something else..."

He looked up, expectantly.

"You get my thanks," she finished.

There was a pause as the ghoul seemed to consider this. Lydia waited, watching his yellow eyes take on a familiar glint that she recognized as pure, unadulterated greed. Then, appearing to have reached a decision, he showed all of his green teeth in a smile that would have made anyone else recoil in distaste.

"Can I have it in twenties?"


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Beetlejuice survived the rest of the pointless, gruelling misery known as 'dinner'. He even managed to eat some more. Needless to say, the fresh dollars in his pocket served as a voiceless reminder to behave and gave him the strength he needed to carry on in the face of... well... Delia's face, which smiled continuously over the table at him, and Mouldy's unbelievably stomach-turning good manners. Lydia had been right; Sean was definitely a good kid and Beetlejuice now knew there was no fear of him being anything but decent and respectful with his best friend, but the boy was just so... so... NICE! How could Lydia go for a guy like THAT after spending years under the wing of someone as gross as himself? Someone who took the greatest pride in bringing things such as rude behaviour and poor hygiene to shocking new levels that were so bad they made the headlines of the Neitherworld papers? It was a puzzle the ghost found most perplexing. Was this what growing up was supposed to mean? If so, BJ was glad he clearly never had, seeing as it was something people were still telling him to do all the time.

As he stood waiting to chauffeur the teen couple to the theatre, leaning against Doomie who was parked outside the Deetz house, the quiet of the night was a much needed reprieve that gave him time to think. In fact, it probably gave him too much time. Thoughts of the future were once again beginning to creep into his head, and he couldn't seem to stop himself from visualizing Lydia's life with Sean in numerous ways... all of which, most disturbingly, didn't include him. It was a painful realization that he wished he could deny, but if he had to be honest with himself, he couldn't see any way that he could fit comfortably into the equation. And then he began to wonder, would it even really be fair to Lydia if he tried? Not that he'd ever much cared for fairness, but things were always different for him where Lydia was concerned. She was the only person he'd ever known that he genuinely cared about more than himself. He would lay down his afterlife for her. Could he sacrifice their friendship in favour of allowing her to live a normal, happy life? It chilled him inside to acknowledge the fact that, one day, maybe sooner than he was willing to admit, he might have to.

Despite keeping all of these thoughts locked in the most private recesses of his strange mind, Beetlejuice's blue mood didn't go unnoticed by Doomie, who regarded him with quiet interest. When the ghost unconsciously heaved a deep, anguished sigh, the ever-sensitive automobile nudged him gently and released a whimpered sound of concern.

"Aw, it's nothin', Doomeroo," BJ said, tipping his head back to gaze at the stars. "Just realizin' there's really no place for dead guys like me in the living world."

The car let out a soft rumble that sounded like, 'awwww'.

"Yep," the depressed ghoul went on, running a hand through his scraggly blonde hair. "The living have way too much they think they gotta do and not nearly enough time to do it. Stuff changes more in one poor slob's lifetime than in five hundred years in the Neitherworld. I should know."

Doomie made a hopeful sound that also held the note of a question, but Beetlejuice shook his head forlornly.

"Alas, Doomie," he said, his voice taking on a distinctly theatrical lilt, tinged with a British accent, "I fear even Lydia is not exempt from the insufferable series of changes that is life itself."

The car looked sad at this, and the two of them sighed in synchronization.

It was then that the very girl they spoke of came out of the house. Her boyfriend was right behind her, hand linked with hers, and Beetlejuice watched them as they made their way to the vehicle, chattering excitedly and tugging playfully at each other's arms. It truly was revolting, but there was no denying that Lydia was happy. When they reached Doomie, Sean opened the door and Lydia climbed in first. The boy quickly followed and they were soon settled cozily in the back seat together. They hadn't yet even acknowledged that Beetlejuice was even there, leaving the ghost feeling strangely affronted, despite not wanting to engage in conversation. As the pair remained obliviously wrapped up in one another, Doomie looked to Beetlejuice with sad, uncertain eyes, and BJ could do no more than shrug before he went to take his place behind the wheel.

The drive to the theatre was wordless on Beetlejuice's part. He stared straight ahead, only half aware of the light-hearted banter behind him. He didn't need to pay close attention to know it was vomit worthy. Nobody engaged him for the entirety of the journey, and he was personally addressed only once when they arrived at their destination.

"This is it, Mr. Beetleman," Sean said, tapping him on the shoulder and making him grind his teeth. "Thank you for the pleasant drive."

As soon as the young couple were out, BJ swung the car around and drove off, eager to get as far away from them for a while as he could. With his heart aching and his mind elsewhere, he soon wasn't at all focused on driving, and Doomie was quick to take up the slack for him. There were certainly advantages to having a sentient vehicle, even if it did possess an abnormal brain.

Under the twinkle of starlight, the living car transported them of its own accord to an obscure little place somewhere well beyond the farthest reaches of the town of Peaceful Pines. It was an uninhabited area, void of any houses or other buildings, except for one little church that stood out in pale silhouette against the black of night. There, Doomie stopped, and Beetlejuice seemed to recover his awareness as he looked around in confusion.

"What the heck did ya bring us HERE for, ya big bucket of bolts?" he asked more harshly than necessary.

Doomie only whimpered. BJ ignored him rather cold-heartedly and floated up and out to do a bit of aimless wandering. As he did so, he discovered what had made the car pause at this seemingly uninteresting place. In the far corner of the churchyard, obscured by shadows in the already thick darkness, was a small cemetery. It appeared to be very old, as many of the headstones were crooked from the gradual shift of the soil and all were heavily weather-worn. Beetlejuice examined some of the barely visible dates, finding most were from the 1600-1700's. It was a little bizarre, but in an odd way, he did find himself experiencing a sense of peace among these old graves, and he threw a glance back at his sad-eyed auto.

"A place for the dead in the living world, huh, Doom?" he said.

Doomie's expression lit up and he beeped twice in agreement. He turned his headlights on Beetlejuice, casting the dead man's shadow across the side of the church. BJ looked up at the long, stretched image of his figure, dark against the stark white of the building. He only wished he felt as big as that warped representation of himself appeared to be. It reminded him of how he used to feel when he was on his adventures with Lydia. They'd been through everything together and there were times they truly felt unstoppable. He was a giant as long as she was with him. The ghost with the most. Now he didn't feel like the ghost with much of anything.

"I know what you're tryin' to do, Doomie," he said after a long moment. "It ain't gonna work, though." He paused, noting the dimming of the headlights, then added, "But thanks for tryin' to cheer me up."

They soon began the depressing drive back into town, knowing the show that Lydia and Sean were seeing would nearly be over by the time they returned. Again, Beetlejuice wasn't mentally present most of the way, so Doomie did the greater part of the driving. He tried a couple of times to bring BJ out of his low mood by turning on the radio, and even by leaving the surface of the road to do loops in the air, but it was all to no avail. When they did arrive back at the theatre, they were fortunate to have a few minutes to spare, giving the ghost a chance to calm his racing thoughts while they parked a short distance up the street to wait.

Soon, the doors opened and people flooded out, all heading in various directions for their rides. Among the last of the crowd were Lydia and Sean, who appeared to be quite engaged in conversation and in no rush to reach the car. Meanwhile, in his effort to spot his passengers among the other people, Beetlejuice's sharp eyes had also fallen on something approaching from down the block that he instinctively identified as trouble. It was a large group of teenagers, mostly boys, that walked with a clearly discernible swagger in their steps as they proceeded directly and deliberately towards the unknowing couple. In his long existence, Beetlejuice had seen all forms of troublemakers, having been one himself on many occasions, and he could smell a bad egg a mile away, both the literal kind and the figurative kind. This was definitely a carton of bad eggs, and not the sort he'd use for his cheese and fungus omelet.

"Hey, Molson!" one of the boys called out, his voice echoing in the now otherwise empty street. "Out for a little night on the town with your girlie girl?"

The ghost saw Sean and Lydia turn towards the group. He perceived the look of absolute dread that fell over Sean's face, instantly wiping away all traces of the kid's prior gaiety from only seconds before. His instincts were telling him to get in there, NOW, and get Lydia out of harm's way, but he remembered her words to him about how she would let him know when she needed protecting. Against what he knew, deep down, was his better judgement, he stayed where he was and watched the scene play out, straining his ears to get every part of the exchange.

"We thought that was you from way down the block," another boy was saying as they neared. "It's too easy to spot that stupid haircut."

"Kinda late for dweebs to be out walkin' the streets, ain't it?" the first added.

"We're just coming from a play," Sean told them, making an obvious effort to remain calm. "And we're heading home."

"Oooohh, 'we're just coming from a play and we're heading home'," the first boy mocked him. The rest of the group laughed. This punk was brazen enough to be the leader, Beetlejuice decided.

"It figures you'd be seein' some stupid play," one of the girls in the group said, "since you're with THIS one." She gestured at Lydia with her chin, and BJ gripped Doomie's steering wheel a little tighter.

"Yeah, I happen to know the tickets for these things don't come cheap, either," the leader said. "And you two dorks are pretty fancied up. Ya wouldn't have any extra cash on ya, would ya, Seanie boy?"

"No," Sean said. "I told you we're going home, Pat."

"Riiight," the leader, now identified as 'Pat', said. "But isn't it always just the sweetest thing to take your old lady somewhere after the show and have some drinks or somethin'? I'm thinkin' you're a liar and you've got cash on ya that you're not tellin' us about. Or maybe goth-girl here has some in her purse."

Sean stood his ground and subtly used one arm to guide Lydia to stand behind him. "We've got nothing, Pat," he said. "I'm serious. So why don't you just leave us alone?"

Pat grabbed him by the front of his white dress shirt in a move so fast that Beetlejuice almost missed it. "We're not goin' anywhere until YOU empty your pockets and the little horse-face empties her saddlebags."

That last comment did it. Sean pushed the offender away and everything started happening at once. The mob of kids moved in like a school of piranha, blocking BJ's view until he could no longer see anything of Sean nor Lydia.

"Doomie, don't you move!" the ghost commanded, and he popped out of the car to immediately reappear on top of the theatre, giving him a bird's-eye view of the commotion.

From his new vantage point, he could easily look directly down and see Sean struggling against half a dozen guys as they held the poor kid to the ground and tore at his clothes in search of money. Lydia was still on her feet but was being pushed and grabbed at from all angles by the group's girls. BJ's heart broke when she cried out in distress, first for Sean, but then he clearly heard his own name leave her lips, and that was exactly the cue he'd been waiting for. When her purse was seized and she was thrown from the crowd to collapse on the sidewalk, Beetlejuice saw his chance and he zapped himself down to her side in an instant, scooping her up in his arms and popping out of the scene again to reappear with her in the safety of the car.

"Lydia, are you okay?! Are ya hurt?! How many fingers am I holding up?! What time is it in Tokyo?!" he was asking her all at once.

She urgently waved him off, paying his questions no heed. "BEETLEJUICE!" she cried, grabbing his jacket lapels and staring directly into his yellow eyes. "SAVE HIM!"

He didn't need to hear any more. "It's showtime!" he declared, cracking his knuckles and vanishing before Lydia could blink.

The ghost reappeared less than a second later, only a short distance from the swarm of kids, standing there nonchalantly with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"HEY!" he called out, making them all look up in alarm. "Are you kids lookin' for somethin'?"

"Mind your own business, old man!" one of them shouted back.

"You sure ya want me to do that?" Beetlejuice asked, appearing distracted as he looked at his fingernails and buffed them against his jacket. "Cuz I might have somethin' that's RIGHT UP YOUR ALLEY!"

The group recoiled in utter shock as the strange man before them suddenly changed into a giant bowling ball with a twisted, menacing face. Cackling with wicked glee, the huge, demonic ball came rolling straight at them, sending most of the terrified teens scattering in all directions. It chased some of them down the street, laughing harder and harder at their frightened screams as they desperately sought some means of escape.

Meanwhile, the victim of the mob was now left with only the gang leader pinning him to the sidewalk. Sean saw his chance and mustered all his strength. He threw his remaining attacker sideways, sending Pat sprawling in the street like a rag-doll. The bad-boy picked himself up, half staggering, and faced Sean with fists clenched.

"You're DEAD, Molson!" he snarled.

All of a sudden, something grabbed him from behind. "Wrong, sunshine," a gravelly voice said in his ear. "THIS is dead."

The boy was spun around to look directly into the eyeless sockets of a horribly decayed corpse. Its skeletal fingers gripped his shoulders, holding him in place and giving him a good, long look at its horrific face that seriously lacked in flesh. What remained of its skin hung in putrid strips from its hollow cheeks, and its yellow teeth were all exposed in a permanent grin of humourless, unfeeling death.

"You've been a bad boy, Patty-cakes," growled a voice as rough as sandpaper from the corpse's rotten throat.

The kid's face went white. He trembled in speechless terror for a moment longer before the monster that held him released its grip, allowing him to bolt in unrestrained panic down the street and off into the night.

Beetlejuice resumed his true form and laughed like a maniac, throwing his head back and holding onto his gut. It was quite possibly the greatest thing he'd experienced in months and he intended to enjoy every last giggle.

From where he remained sitting awkwardly on the ground, Sean was watching with wide, unbelieving eyes. "M-Mr. Beetle-m-man?!" he stuttered. "W-what...?! HOW?!"

"Oh! Oh, yeah..." BJ forced out through his laughter. He got control of himself and started weaving lies. "I, uh, used to be an illusionist. Old Sam Slaughter's Circus Of Scares & Horrors. Travelled with 'em for years. Those were the good ol' days."

"That was... amazing!" the kid exclaimed, still in shock. "I've never seen anything like it! And I never EVER thought I'd see Patrick Nichols scared enough to run away from anyone or anything! You were incredible!"

"You were pretty good yourself, kid," Beetlejuice told him, moving to help him up. "I saw how ya stood up to those punks and tried to protect Lydia."

"Where IS Lydia?!" Sean suddenly asked with urgency, looking around for her in panic.

"She's fine," BJ said. "Safe in the car." He gestured up the street towards Doomie.

Sean let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness."

The ghost grinned. "Well, I dunno if GOODness had much to do with it," he said, "but it sure was fun! Heh, heh!"

After collecting Lydia's purse from where it had been dropped on the sidewalk, they made their way to the car, Sean leaning on Beetlejuice for support as he struggled with his still-wobbly legs. From her position in Doomie's back seat, Lydia watched them drawing near and almost couldn't believe her eyes. She hadn't expected to see her ghoulish best friend willingly offering help to Sean in any way that required close contact. She almost wished she had her camera.

When they reached the vehicle and Sean got in, his girlfriend threw herself at him in relief. They hugged each other tightly for a good minute, and Beetlejuice said nothing as he climbed into the driver's seat. The second after he'd fired up the engine, he was startled when a pair of slender arms wrapped around his neck from behind.

"Thank you, Beetlejuice," Lydia whispered in his ear, "for saving us."

"Don't mention it, babes," he whispered back. "Seriously. Don't. I've got a reputation to keep."

Lydia smiled and sat back in her seat, cuddling up next to Sean, who put his arms around her.

Beetlejuice drove them home, feeling for the first time in ages like he really was the 'ghost with the most' again.


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

The next few weeks passed quite uneventfully. With the exception of some evenings after school and a couple of late nights just before Lydia went to bed, Beetlejuice was back to seeing very little of his best friend. The few times that he did, it had been he who initiated contact through the mirror, and each time, the conversations had been brief and comparatively shallow by the standards of their old rapport. Lydia was preoccupied with homework, date nights and other things that BJ had no interest in, and he generally just got the feeling that he was imposing on her. He took it all with uncharacteristically quiet acceptance however, having resigned himself to the fact that the girl now had other priorities and no longer had the time to spend gallivanting around the Neitherworld with him.

The result, for Beetlejuice, was a deep-seated depression that consumed his every waking hour and even invaded a great deal of his sleep with horrible nightmares. He would dream of Lydia telling him she never wanted to see him again, and being forced to watch as she walked away into some vast, unknown realm that was clouded with thick fog. Roars and snarls of unseen beasts would reach his ears from beyond the mysterious haze, and he'd plunge in after her, searching frantically for some sign of where she'd gone. Over and over, he'd wake himself up calling her name and screaming for her to come back, soaked in cold sweat and shivering in his bed. Sometimes, on a rare good night, he would dream of Lydia and the way things used to be, but he always woke to find it was no longer a reality, which only made his heart ache for the past even more.

And so it was, that after what had to have been a full month of slowly becoming accustomed to only small doses of Lydia and the resulting constant emptiness he felt inside, it was quite unexpected when, one day, the girl suddenly summoned him of her own volition. And equally unexpected was the fact that he appeared in her room to find she was crying.

"Babes, what's wrong?" he asked.

Lydia ran to him, latching onto him fiercely and burying her face in the crook of his neck. He was quite taken by surprise. Unsteadily, he brought his arms around her and tried to be as comforting as he could.

"We had a fight," she choked out between sobs.

The ghost sighed. "Oh, Lyds," he said, patting her back. "That was ages ago. I thought we were over that."

"No!" she cried. "I mean me and Sean!"

"Oh," he said, feeling stupid. Then the information began to sink in and he couldn't stop himself from breaking into a wide grin. "OH!"

"I feel like such an idiot," she wept. "We may be breaking up and it's all my fault."

Beetlejuice was glad she had her face buried against him so she couldn't see the look of sheer joy that was plastered all over his own. Could it be true? Were they really breaking up? Would he have his best friend all to himself again? He made a fist and brought it to his mouth, biting down on it to keep from crying out in shameless delight at this horrible, WONDERFUL news.

"I feel so awful, Beej," Lydia's muffled voice was full of pain. "I don't know what to do."

He knew he should be feeling bad for her, but he just couldn't help it. It truly was the best thing he'd heard in months. With a great deal of effort, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, forcing his next words to sound serious and concerned.

"Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?" he asked, pressing his lips tightly together afterwards to prevent the giggles that he felt bubbling up from escaping.

"I don't know," she whimpered. "I don't know if I can."

She sniffled and pulled away from him slightly, wiping her eyes. He handed her his tie and she blew her nose on it.

"Hey, thanks!" he said with total sincerity. This was turning out to be a fantastic day!

Lydia was too blue to laugh. She dragged her feet as she went to sit down on her bed, looking rather like a heartbroken zombie. Beetlejuice followed and sat down next to her. He waited in silence for her to speak, not so much out of respect for her need to collect her thoughts, but more so he wouldn't start openly celebrating.

"I..." Lydia finally began, but she hesitated. "I can't even say it." She hung her head.

"Hey, I've heard it all," he told her. "What happened? Didja lose his best barf bucket? Belch in his grandmother's ear? Spill Slime Soda all over his mom's furniture? I've done that last one on purpose! Ha, ha!"

"I was jealous," she admitted flatly.

BJ suddenly looked confused. "Jealous?"

"Yes."

"YOU, Lyds?" he looked shocked.

"Yes," she said, feeling ashamed.

"Of what, babes?"

She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly before going on. "I saw Sean talking to another girl yesterday," she told her friend. "It was completely innocent, but I was stupid enough to confront him about it."

Beetlejuice didn't understand. "So?"

"So," she explained, "it really hurt his feelings because he thought I trusted him more than that."

"And?" he asked.

"And that's it," she gave a slight shrug.

The ghost snorted. "What a sissy."

"Beetlejuice..." Lydia moaned, covering her eyes in frustration.

"Well, c'mon!" he argued. "So ya hurt his feelings! Big deal! It was a misunderstanding, and that's no reason to break up with ya! Give him a day or two to think about it and he'll realize what a weenie he's bein'. You'll see."

The girl thought about this. "Ya know... you may be right," she said finally. "Maybe I'm even seeing this as a much bigger problem than he is."

"Yeah!" the ghoul said enthusiastically, putting his arm around her. "Old Mouldy'll come around! Just wait and see!"

"But what if he doesn't?" she said then. "What if he really doesn't want to be with me anymore?"

"Then 'yours truly' will have a talk with him, personally," he assured her. "I'll tell him what a great girl he's lettin' go over nothin'. And if that don't work, I have other ways of makin' him see reason. Slimy, stinky, six-eyed, multi-legged ways with bat wings!" He wriggled his fingers menacingly.

Lydia actually laughed, a sound Beetlejuice had been deeply missing. She leaned into him, slipping her arms around his middle.

"Thanks, Beej," she said. "You really are the best friend I could ever want."

Realization hit him at that moment like a transport truck. His heart felt like it dropped somewhere down around his toes.

_What am I DOING?!_ he thought. _I get the greatest news I've heard in months and I screw it up by bein'... NICE?! What is WRONG with me?! How could I be so STUPID?!_

"Uh... sure... Any time, Lyds," was what he said, his insides taking on a feeling like something akin to a mixture of cold, gloopy mud and spoiled oatmeal.

Lydia's arms lingered around him. She gave his body a couple of squeezes as if checking for something.

"Hey, Beej..." she started. "Have you lost weight?"

Beetlejuice squirmed when she poked him in the belly. "Oh, probably a little," he admitted.

"How'd that happen?" she asked. "Aren't you eating well?"

"What are you, my mother?" he grouched, folding his arms.

She ignored that, looking closely at his eyes and scrutinizing his features. "You... don't look good," she told him.

"Aw, you're just sayin' that," he said coyly, batting his eyelashes.

"Seriously, BJ," she said. "I haven't seen you up close for a while, and you really don't look like yourself."

In a sudden poof, he changed himself into her father. "Really?" he asked. "I don't know what..." he turned into Claire Brewster, "you're, like, talking about..." he became Delia, "Lydiaaaa!"

"Stop that," she said. "I mean it. Are you okay, Beetlejuice? I don't think I've even asked how you've been doing for ages."

Returning to his usual form, the ghost hunched his shoulders and sat with his arms hanging between his knees, hands clasped and twiddling his thumbs nervously. He cast a sideways glance in her direction, unable to look her in the eye.

"I'm doin' alright, I guess," he lied. "Got some things keepin' me busy and stuff."

"Like what?" Lydia asked.

"Oh, uh... ya know... prankin' the neighbours... comin' up with new scams to make a few dishonest bucks... stuff like that."

She reached over and put a hand under his chin, gently turning his face towards her. "You look sad," she said simply.

"Naaaww, babes," he straightened up and began fixing his tie, "I'm not sad. I'm feelin' fine. Never deader."

She looked at him skeptically, all too familiar with her best friend to not be aware when he wasn't telling the truth... which was often, but that was Beetlejuice. She thought for a moment, then tried a different approach.

"I kinda wondered if you might be feeling like I am lately," she said.

"How's that?" he asked.

"Well..." she began, "I haven't spent much time with you for a while... and, to be honest, I've been missing you."

That got his attention. "You do? I mean, you ARE? I mean, you HAVE?!" his words came out in a blurted jumble.

"Well, yeah," Lydia told him. "You're my best friend. Just because I've been busy with other things doesn't mean I don't still want to spend time with my best friend."

She watched his eyes light up like the windows of an empty house with someone finally home. Yep. She'd definitely hit the nail on the head.

"Then what are we waiting for?!" he exclaimed, grabbing her hands and leaping into the air. "Let's blow this bawl factory and go back to the Neitherworld for some fun! You're not doin' anything else right now, right?"

She smiled. "Nope."

The ghost whooped with joy, his head spinning in excitement. He burst into a vibrant display of balloons and confetti that whirled around the room like a colourful cyclone. Lydia couldn't help but laugh as the rainbow of her friend's happiness showered down over her, covering her in sparkles that made her feel as magical as he was himself.

"Then lay those B-words on me, babes!" he cried, grabbing her hands again as he popped up in front of her and began spinning her in circles around him.

She threw her head back in abandon as she twirled among the still raining colours, returning his tight grip and soaking up his contagious delight. She really had missed this. She really missed HIM.

"Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice! Beetlejuice!" she chanted with the same enthusiasm of times gone by.

The B-guy cackled. There was a single flash of lightning and a crack of thunder. And, with a poof, they were gone.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

"Oh, YEAH!" BJ cheered as he and Lydia sped with Doomie down the Neitherworld highway for the first time in what seemed like forever. "This is GREAT! I catch WAY more bugs with you at the wheel than with anyone else, babes!"

Lydia laughed as the crazy ghoul stood in the car, leaning forward with his hair blowing in the wind and his mouth gaping open. "Let's hope my Real World driving trainer is as impressed with my driving as you are!" she giggled.

"He will be if he knows how hard it is to catch a good meal," he grinned at her, his teeth full of beetles and various other flying insects.

With everyone in smiles and the radio cranking out tunes as they roared along the open road, it was just like old times. Troubles were temporarily forgotten as they joked and laughed together, any prior tension between them having seemingly evaporated. To any unknowing observer, it would have appeared as though their closeness had never wavered.

"So, where do you wanna go, Beej?" Lydia asked. "The beach? The boo-seum?"

"Are you kiddin'?" the ghost replied. "Those old stink-holes are staler than my salamander sandwich." He pulled said sandwich out of his pocket and took a bite as frightened amphibians jumped from the bread to avoid his teeth. "Let's go somewhere we've never been before! Like the snotsprings in Smellowstone National Park!"

"Um... I think I'll pass on that one," Lydia said, imagining what such a place would be like.

"Oh, alright," he agreed, sounding a little disappointed. "Then let's just let the road decide! We'll keep drivin' and see where it takes us!"

"Is that really a good idea?" his friend wondered cautiously. "We ARE in the Neitherworld."

Beetlejuice leaned back in his seat and put his feet up. "Don't worry, babes," he drawled, folding his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "What could go wrong?"

A huge creature resembling a deer with six legs and four eyes suddenly bounded out in front of them. Lydia swerved to avoid hitting it, sending her carelessly unbelted companion flying. With a scream, he caught the edge of the car door just before he was almost completely thrown from the vehicle. As they rounded a sudden corner with BJ still hanging off the side, his body smacked into someone's mailbox, spewing the person's mail in all directions and launching the box itself into the air before it came down hatch-open over the ghost's head.

"You were saying?" Lydia groaned as she watched him haul himself back into the passenger seat, his head still swallowed by the mailbox.

"Famous last words..." his voice echoed from within the metal box. "Ya know I hate 'em."

"Maybe we'd better stick to places and things we know," Lydia suggested wisely. "Besides, it's been a while since I've visited the Neitherworld for fun."

"Exactly," said BJ, pulling the box from his head and chucking it over his shoulder to land with a clatter in the back seat. "That's why we should visit as many exciting places and do as many exciting things as possible! If you're worried about the road, let's hit the skies!"

She gasped as he reached over and engaged Doomie's flight system. Their special car rose from the surface of the highway and took to the air in a flash. Beetlejuice let out a maniacal laugh as they soared up into the clouds, far higher than Lydia would have liked at that present moment.

"Beetlejuice, I don't think this is a good idea," she warned.

"What's the matter, babes?" he asked, looking completely at ease as he leaned over the hood, placing his hands where the windshield should have been. "Ya never minded flying before."

"Well, it's been a while," she said nervously. "And you have to remember that I'm not dead like you are. This is dangerous for me."

"Aw, take a word of advice from a dead guy and live a little, Lyds," the ghost replied, gazing down at the world beneath them. "You've been spendin' too much time with Mould-boy and forgot how to have a little reckless fun." He cupped his hand to his mouth and shouted to the car, "Right, Doomie?"

Doomie beeped brightly and performed some loops in the air, making both his passengers scream. Lydia gritted her teeth and gripped the steering wheel like a lifeline, incredibly grateful that she was safely buckled in. When the car righted itself, Beetlejuice lay in a dishevelled heap in the passenger side, his hair all sticking up and his eyes as wide as wagon wheels, clutching his chest as if in the midst of a heart attack.

"See? Wasn't that fun?" he gasped.

As they continued at a more moderate level without any more stunts, Lydia quite quickly became accustomed to flying in a car again, and she had to admit that it was quite exhilarating. It was a kind of excitement that she realized she'd been missing, despite the danger... or perhaps because of it. Beetlejuice may have actually been somewhat correct when he said she'd been spending too much time with Sean, as much as she didn't like to acknowledge that possibility. She cared deeply for the boy, but she knew she'd been spoiled by a prior life of truly otherworldly adventures with her supernatural comrade. Gradually settling into a more normal existence hadn't seemed so difficult, but returning to this bizarre world again with this unique and powerful being that she was lucky enough to call her best friend was definitely an eye-opener.

Totally unaware of Lydia's thoughts, that same unique and powerful being was back to standing up in the car again, leaning over the side and babbling something about being able to drop a giant stink bomb on the mayor's house from that height. Lydia smiled to herself. He was the happiest she had seen him in a long time. She hadn't been oblivious to his obvious depression since she'd met Sean, no matter how he'd tried to hide most of it, and it was good to see him actually having fun again. As she watched him excitedly pointing out things below, she began to wonder, not for the first time, just how greatly he depended on their friendship. What would happen to him if her life truly became too busy for her to come here anymore? Would he struggle through and eventually move on? Or would he wither away to nothingness in his grief? Horrible images of Beetlejuice fading into oblivion crept into her mind and she had to tell herself that she was probably being overly dramatic. Her friend had existed for hundreds of years before they met, so he would get along just fine without her once he got used to it again... wouldn't he?

"Hey, you okay, Lyds?" she found him suddenly asking. "You're awfully quiet."

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, I'm fine, BJ," she assured him. "I was just thinking."

"Don't be goin' all contemplative on me, babes," he said, winking at her. "You'll miss all the neat stuff we're passin' over." He pointed at something she couldn't see from her sitting position. "Like that over there!"

Lydia craned her neck to see what he was indicating. What she hadn't expected to discover was a vast, swirling, whirl-pool of energy in the middle of the landscape below. "What IS that?" she asked, her brow wrinkling in wonder.

Beetlejuice smiled confidently. "Why, it's a... a... um..." he made motions with his hands and wiggled his fingers as he searched for the word, a frown of confusion replacing the smile on his face. "It's a... one of those... uh... hmmmm..." he sagged in defeat, "I have no idea what it is."

"It looks like some kind of vortex," Lydia observed. "But what's it doing there?"

"Who knows? This is the Neitherworld!" he said. "Let's get a closer look!"

Doomie, ever attentive and eager to please, immediately made a dive towards the huge swirl of warped light and colour.

"Now, hold on a minute, Beetlejuice," Lydia warned him. "We have no idea what that is or how dangerous it might be. This probably isn't a smart idea."

At her words, Doomie heedfully pulled back upwards. The girl smiled at their car's thoughtful obedience and patted his steering wheel in approval.

"Never stopped us before," came Beetlejuice's blunt rebuttal.

He had a point. Doomie hesitated but returned to a downward course.

"Well, I'm a little older and a little wiser now," argued Lydia. "It's too risky."

She was probably right. The car pulled back up again.

"Well, I'm a LOT older than you," the ghost stated stubbornly, "and I say it's fine!"

Doomie tipped his nose back down. This situation was becoming difficult.

"Beetlejuice, I don't feel right about this!" Lydia finally snapped.

"You worry too much! It'll be fine!" he growled.

"It's too dangerous!"

"It's just a big swirly thing! How dangerous could it be?"

"VERY!"

Doomie was getting confused. He tried to pull back up again at Lydia's last word, but suddenly found he couldn't. In the process of arguing, they had drawn nearer to the mysterious vortex. Too near, it seemed, as it apparently had its own gravitational pull. Now they were past the point of choices as it forcefully hauled them closer and closer.

"Doomie, pull up! Pull up!" the girl cried, knuckles white as she gripped the wheel.

The car revved his engine and tried again with all his might, but it was impossible. He whimpered his apologies. They were being sucked in at an alarming rate.

Lydia grabbed a guilty looking Beetlejuice by the collar. "You're lucky you're dead, because I could kill you right now!" she snarled.

Seconds later, they were holding each other and screaming as they were sucked straight into the funnel of energy, whirling and swirling 'round and down, spiralling into the unknown. Time and space seemed to warp and stretch, pulling and twisting them along with it. Beetlejuice made a last-ditch effort to get them out by changing into as many flying machines and winged creatures as he could think of, but it was no use. The extreme force was too powerful, and he cried out in pain as it manipulated his body in ways he'd never felt before. As blackness soon enveloped him, the last thing at the edge of his awareness before he completely lost consciousness was the heartbreaking sound of Lydia screaming his name, and he knew it was all his fault.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

Beetlejuice awoke in a state of complete disorientation. He didn't know where he was or even who he was for several minutes. When his sense of identity did return to him, he also quickly became aware of the fact that he had a killer headache and his body felt as if he'd been put through a blender. Seeing nothing but blackness, he also briefly thought he'd gone blind, which gave him a few seconds of terror before he realized he merely hadn't opened his eyes. When he did, he was only met with more darkness that offered no comfort or consolation whatsoever.

It took a few moments for his vision to adjust, and he sat squinting at his mysterious new environment as ambiguous shapes began to gradually take form around him. Among what eventually appeared to be nothing but abstract blobs for scenery that held no familiarity at all, he did recognize one thing that slightly stood out against the background of midnight black. Doomie was sitting some feet away, barely visible in the shadowy haze that composed the unsettling foreign atmosphere.

BJ blinked several times, trying to remember how he'd gotten there and why he was out of the car. With considerable effort, he struggled to his feet and staggered towards his only point of reference, grunting and groaning as he heaved himself forward. He fell once, and it was a titanic battle to get back up again. This strange, alien place seemed to breathe with its own oppressive energy that somehow forced him back to the ground each time he thought he'd found the strength to rise. When he did, at last, reach the car, he collapsed on the hood, feeling more exhausted than he could ever remember.

"Shoulda went to the snotsprings," he mumbled to himself, panting heavily.

Then he realized what he'd said. Memories of flying with Lydia and being sucked into the vortex came flooding back to his sluggish brain. A rush of panic struck him, providing new strength to draw upon. He looked up and made out a form slumped over the steering wheel, and he immediately pushed himself up off the hood and stumbled around to the driver's side of the car, tearing the door open with badly trembling hands.

"Lydia!" he called her name desperately as he leaned her back in the seat as gently as possible. "Can ya hear me?"

The girl was nowhere near being conscious. Beetlejuice couldn't even tell if she was breathing. He fumbled with her seatbelt as he unfastened it and gathered her into his arms, taking one slim wrist between his forefinger and thumb to feel for a pulse. It was there, rapid and irregular. He didn't know if that was good or bad, since he hadn't had one himself for centuries.

"I gotta get ya outta here, babes," he told her, although he knew she was completely unaware. "But I don't even know where here is!" He thought for a moment, then directed his voice towards the car. "Doomie! Hey, Doomie, wake up! C'mon, lights on, ol' Doomeroo!"

There was a weak rumble and the headlights glowed dimly.

"'Atta boy, Doomie!" BJ tried to sound encouraging. "Pull the muck outta your rusty, old grill and wake up!"

The car rumbled louder, then sputtered and coughed, and the lights went back out with a sad, defeated groan.

"Okay, that's fine," Beetlejuice said, attempting to sound confident. "I can do this myself."

He snapped his fingers with the intention of juicing up some instant light, but to his astonishment, nothing happened. He tried again and again, creating not so much as a fizzle from his fingertips.

"Come onnnn," he whined. "This is no time to run empty!" He snapped his fingers over and over, growing more panicked and frustrated.

"Your powers will not function here," came a voice out of nowhere that echoed as if in a great cavern. "This is not your realm."

"What?! Who?!" the startled ghost swung his head from side to side, looking for the source of the voice.

A faint glow slowly appeared in the air above, and Beetlejuice watched in fearful awe as three strange figures materialized before his eyes. Virtually indistinguishable from one another, each appeared to be wearing a cloak that seemed to be made purely of shadow. Only their heads, hooded and undefinable, were semi-lit by the eerie glow; the rest of their forms melted into and actually became the darkness itself. They hovered imposingly over the ghost as he cradled his unconscious friend, making him feel anxious and uneasy. He held Lydia closer, unsure if it was for her sake or his own.

"If you guys are sellin' somethin'," he told them shakily, "I've already got half a dozen at home in every colour."

They didn't seem to appreciate his humour. A spotlight shone upon him from an unknown source, temporarily blinding him. He blinked and squinted but refrained from shielding his eyes, refusing to relinquish his hold on his best friend. Gradually, he began to make out the indistinct forms of the strange entities again, still hovering beyond the reaches of the light.

"Why are you here, Beetlejuice?" asked the first of the three in that same voice that echoed around the dark world and rattled BJ to his bones.

"Uh... missed that left turn at Albuquerque?" he offered pitifully. Then something dawned on him. "Hey, wait a minute. How do you know my name?"

"We know a great many things," answered the second in an identical voice. "We know you are Beetlejuice and you are from the Neitherworld."

"We also know that your friend is called 'Lydia'," added the third being, also in the same voice. "She is a living girl from what you refer to as the 'Real World'."

BJ was impressed. "Okay, I'll give ya that," he conceded. "But if you know so much," he challenged boldly, raising a skeptical eyebrow, "why'd ya ask why I'm here?"

His question didn't faze them in the least.

"Your answer would reveal nothing to us that we do not already know," said the second figure, "but it would be of great benefit to yourself."

"Uh... What?" Beetlejuice was confused. "I think you guys have been spendin' too long in the dark."

"Why do YOU believe you are here, Beetlejuice?" asked the one that had first questioned him.

The ghost thought this was ridiculous. Who did these know-it-alls think they were? His usual brazen attitude was starting to override his fear, despite no juice and having no idea how powerful the mystery beings might be.

"Becuuuuzzz..." he started in a saucy sing-song voice with a clear hint of contempt... but something immediately stopped him dead in his tracks. A horrid, bitterly cold feeling suddenly washed over him, freezing him from the inside out. It was as if an icy hand had plunged through his body and seized his spine, radiating frozen tendrils all throughout his entire nervous system. "Be-because..." he stammered. He drew in a shaky breath that hitched in his chest. His eyes widened and he was shocked to feel them well up with tears. He outwardly winced as a heavy sense of understanding hit him like a brick to the skull. It was pure knowledge; cold, cruel, and completely indifferent to his feelings. "Because I'm an idiot," he finally choked out, hardly believing the words that left his own lips.

"Why?" asked the same being, that single word echoing all around the darkness.

"Because I didn't listen to Lydia," he admitted with an ache in his gut. "And I put her in danger. I got carried away. I knew it wasn't safe for her."

"Correct," said the second. "Then you must also know that your friend is dying."

Beetlejuice looked down at her limp form in his arms. Was she? He couldn't tell. It was very probable that she was, though. The trip through the vortex had done a job on him, so what must it have done to her? He couldn't imagine being a living human going through that. How could he have let this happen to her?

"Yeah," he said flatly, feeling ashamed as a few waiting tears broke free and spilled down his cheeks. "That's why I gotta get her outta here." His tone turned pleading as he looked back up at the three entities. "Can ya help us?"

"We can return you to your proper worlds," said the third being.

He looked hopeful. "You can?"

"We can," confirmed the first. "But your friend will still die."

Beetlejuice's face fell. "Well... isn't there some way you all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful types can save her or somethin'?" he asked desperately, subconsciously clutching Lydia tighter to his body.

"There is not," answered the second, making his heart plummet like a stone.

"But there is a way that YOU can save her," added the first.

The dead man looked bewildered. "Me?"

"You possess a power to heal your friend which we do not," stated the third.

"I thought you said my juice won't work here," he told them, confused. "Besides, I could never heal anyone before, anyway."

"It is true, that which you call 'juice' will not work in this realm," the same one told him.

"However," the first carried on, "the love you have for your friend is a power beyond anything you've ever previously achieved."

"Whoa, watch your language," the ghoul said, a little of his smart mouth cutting through his tears.

The second entity was quick to pounce on this. "Do you deny that you love your truest friend?" the voice was accusing, although there was no change in tone or volume.

Guiltily, Beetlejuice lowered his eyes to look at the still figure in his arms again. "No," he said softly.

"Then be not ashamed," it said. "Use that love to save her life."

BJ continued to look at her lying there unmoving in his grasp, her head propped limply against his shoulder. For all his desperate desire to save her, some dark part of his twisted mind was nagging at him like an insatiable demon, telling him that if Lydia were to actually die, she could stay with him in the Neitherworld forever as a ghost. It would mean the end of all the loneliness and misery he'd been going through as she'd been growing up and seemingly growing apart from him. She could be immortal, like he was, and he'd never lose her to things like Sean Molson, career plans, old age, or anything. But he knew in his heart that it wasn't right. He knew she wanted to live her life and she had every right to do so in her own way, no matter how he or anyone else felt about it. Letting her die would be the ultimate act of selfishness, and Beetlejuice just couldn't bring himself to allow it. It was too low even for him.

He sighed deeply and raised his eyes to the three unknowns. "What do I have to do?"

"Take her hands in yours," instructed entity number one.

Beetlejuice shifted her slightly in his arms and did as he was told, noting the contrast between her small, delicate hands and his own much larger ones. His red-tipped fingers looked bizarre and out-of-place clutching her comparatively tiny digits.

"Close your eyes," the second being commanded.

"Please don't tell me this is gonna involve sayin' 'there's no place like home'," he muttered as he followed orders. The beings ignored this.

"Now focus your energy and allow yourself to feel what is in your heart without boundaries," said the third. "You must remove all traces of negativity and feel only the purest love."

He took a deep breath, feeling mostly just queasiness at that moment. "This is gonna take everything I've got," he said.

With all his might, he focused only on Lydia, blocking out all thoughts of the entities, the dark world, the trip through the vortex and any events leading up to that point. He thought of all their fun times and adventures, and the immense joy they shared from simply being together. He visualized Lydia's smile when he gave her an occasional gift; her laughter when he did something funny. He felt the warmth of when she called him her best friend, and the sense of connection between them when she looked into his eyes. For that moment, all else ceased to exist for Beetlejuice but the special human being that was his very best friend, and he was wholly consumed by the incredible purity of emotion he was experiencing. It was like nothing else he'd ever known.

As the pleasant images and feelings overwhelmed him, he couldn't prevent his eyes suddenly popping open of their own accord, snapping his awareness back to the dire situation at hand. Once again immersed in darkness, he feared he'd broken the spell and ruined his chance of saving her, and he was hit by his prior sense of despair. But then his vision adjusted, and he came to discover that he was no longer in the dark world, nor was he holding Lydia anymore. No... he was at home in the roadhouse, lying quite comfortably in his own bed.

Perplexed, he sat up and looked around. Things appeared as normally abnormal as ever. Had it been a dream? Another of his terrible nightmares?

"Nah, that would be a cop-out," he spoke out loud to no one in particular.

He hopped out of bed, noticing he was still wearing his striped suit instead of his beetle pajamas. Running out of the bedroom, he raced to the roadhouse doors and threw them open.

"DOOMIE!" he called out into the night.

The car came whipping around the corner in a flash, looking as bright as ever.

"You're here!" Beetlejuice exclaimed. "And you're not a broken down hunk o' junk! Well... at least no more than usual."

Doomie shot him a look and huffed in offense.

"Did it happen, Doomie?" the ghost asked. "Were we really there?"

The car beeped in the affirmative, and BJ noticed the battered mailbox still laying in the back seat.

"Then where's Lydia?!" he wondered, feeling panicky.

He turned on his heel and headed back inside, charging to his standing mirror. He pressed his face to the glass and willed Lydia's bedroom to appear, knots forming in his stomach. More dark of night greeted his eyes from the Real World, and he had to wait once again for his vision to adjust. But - thank giant, slobbering, mangy, disgusting sewer rats - she was there, lying peacefully in her bed. Beetlejuice gazed at her intensely, relieved when he could see her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm as she breathed deeply in sleep. She showed no sign of injury or discomfort. There even appeared to be a slight smile on her lips. He wondered what pleasant dream she must be having and if it included him.

Satisfied that Lydia was safe, he turned his back to the mirror, leaning back against it and sinking to the floor with a weary exhale of breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Phew... Well, that wasn't so bad," he said cockily. "I guess I showed those know-it-all beings a thing or two. Heh, heh!"

A booming voice echoed around him, making him cringe in fear.

"Do not be a jerk, Beetlejuice," it said. "You can be returned as easily as you were released."

"OKAAAAY!" the ghost whined. "I was only kiddin'! Sheesh..."

He went to bed without another word, genuinely looking forward to the morning light.


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

Lydia woke up in her bed, unsure why she was still wearing her clothes from the day before. In fact, she wasn't even sure what she was doing there, since the last thing she remembered was flying in the Neitherworld with Beetlejuice and Doomie. Where had they been going? What had happened?

"That's strange," she said out loud, sitting up and looking at the sunshine streaming through her bedroom window.

It couldn't have been a dream. She recalled the circumstances surrounding their spur-of-the-moment excursion perfectly. She knew she'd argued with Sean and called on Beetlejuice in her need for a friend to talk to, and she remembered taking the opportunity to spend some real time with him after seeing his clearly depressed state. There was no reason to assume she hadn't really been driving and flying with him, as well.

She got up and stretched. At least she felt good, despite having seemed to have lost a fair chunk of her memory. As a matter of fact, she felt REALLY good. She couldn't remember ever feeling so well-rested and renewed before. It was a strange but welcome experience.

With a yawn, Lydia walked to the window and peered out at the lovely June scenery. The sun lit up the yard and surrounding trees with a gorgeous golden hue, and she could see birds and squirrels frolicking about below, just like a scene straight out of a Disney movie. She opened the window and took a deep breath of the fresh, clean air.

"Ah!" she sighed happily. "It must be the weather making me feel so good. This is just the kind of day to put a spring in one's step."

The words no sooner left her mouth than a poof was heard and something seemed to push upwards at her from down around her feet, throwing her backwards with surprising force. She flew through the air with a shriek and landed with a hard thud on the floor. Sprawled on her back in a most awkward position, she blinked up at the ceiling in bewilderment, wondering what on Earth had just happened. When the initial shock wore off, she sat up, fortunately unhurt, and saw something unusual attached to the bottom of her right foot. It was a fairly large, metal coil. A spring.

Her eyes narrowed. "Alright, Beetlejuice," she called out with a wry smile. "Very funny. You can come out now."

Expecting to hear him chuckling, she was surprised when only silence reached her ears. That was odd. He always showed himself immediately after she called him on his pranks. He was always too eager to laugh to remain in hiding for long.

"Beetlejuice?" she tried again, but there was no sight, nor sound, nor anything to indicate he was there.

Lydia picked herself up off the floor and hopped on her left foot over to the bed. She flopped down and reached for the spring that was fast to the right, pulling it off and tossing it aside.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood," she spoke to the air. "If you'd pulled that trick on me yesterday, I might have lost my cool."

POOF!

It was suddenly extremely warm in the room. Sweat instantly beaded on her brow and her clothes clung to her body.

"What in the...?" she trailed off, panting and fanning herself with her hands. "Okay, BJ, I get that you haven't pulled pranks on me for a long time, but please stop it now."

The room continued to feel like an oven. In fact, the temperature seemed to be rising.

"I mean it," she said. "That's enough. You got me. You're 'the ghost with the most'. Now stop."

The heat raged on, climbing until Lydia was afraid something would actually burst into flames.

"This isn't funny, Beetlejuice!" she shouted, becoming seriously alarmed. "I don't know where you're hiding, but I wish I had my hands on you right now!"

POOF!

The intense heat disappeared. And so did her bedroom. She was suddenly at BJ's Roadhouse, in BJ's own bedroom, with her hands around BJ's neck as he lay snoring in his bed. Lydia screamed in surprise, and the ghost sat bolt upright with a startled scream of his own, knocking her over backwards until she found herself lying on the floor again. This was not how she'd pictured her day going when she woke up feeling so good that morning.

"Lyds?!" Beetlejuice looked down at her. "Where'd you come from?!"

She glared up at him. "A blazing inferno! What were you trying to do?!"

"Uh... well, I was tryin' to sleep, babes," he told her as he moved to help her up. "What were YOU tryin' to do?"

"I wasn't trying to do anything," she said, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. "I just got finished saying that I wished I had my hands on you, and suddenly I was here! The first prank was one thing, Beetlejuice, but the second one was too much! And now you bring me here and act as if you're surprised to see me?"

"Whoa, hang on a minute," he waved off her tirade. "What prank? I've been asleep, babes, I swear to ya. Not even up for a beetle snack."

"Oh, then I suppose a little birdie did it," she said sarcastically, crossing her arms.

There was another poof and a small bird appeared. BJ's eyes followed it in wonder as it flew in circles around them.

"Hmm..." he said. "That's new."

"You picking on everything I say today is certainly new, yes," Lydia grouched. "And another thing... I find it awfully strange that I can't seem to remember where we went yesterday. I woke up wearing the same clothes I had on before we left, and couldn't remember anything past flying around in the car. Where did we go? What did we do?"

She watched as a haunted expression fell across his face. He visibly swallowed and suddenly began avoiding her gaze.

"Well, um... ya see... uh..." he tried to concoct a lie, but nothing was coming to him. He hoped he didn't look as guilty as he felt.

"Beetlejuice... something happened, didn't it?"

Darn. She was onto him.

"Well..." he swallowed again, "we did experience some minor turbulence."

Lydia caught the worried, fearful look in his eyes as he grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

"The vortex!" she exclaimed, slapping her forehead as the memory came back.

BJ winced at the mere mention of it. This could get messy, and not in the way he was fond of.

"I remember now," the girl went on. "We were arguing... You wanted to get closer to it... We got sucked in..." She put her fingers to her temples, straining to recall more. "I can't remember anything after that."

Beetlejuice seized what he hoped would be a quick escape. "Ya know, neither can I," he lied. "Funny about that, huh? Well, that's too bad. Guess we'll just have to move on with your life and my afterlife and forget the whole thing."

He started to walk out, but Lydia grabbed the rear waistband of his pajamas, stopping him in his tracks.

"Oh, no, you don't," she told him. "I wanna know what happened."

"But I can't remember, babes!" the ghost pleaded, his face the very picture of a guilty conscience.

"Oh, come on, Beetlejuice," she said, rolling her eyes. "You lie about as well as I fly!"

POOF!

BJ yelped as he felt the elastic waistband hit his backside with a loud snap. He spun around, teeth gritted and butt stinging, ready to give Lydia a piece of his mind. To his great surprise, she was no longer standing behind him. She was in the air, hovering awkwardly near the ceiling.

"Babes?!" his voice cracked in shock. "What the heck are ya doin' up there?!"

"I don't know!" she cried, flapping her arms in a clumsy effort to gain some control. "Get me down!"

"Help is on the way!" he bellowed, changing himself into Super Slob.

The seedy superhero launched into the air in a flash. He tried to take her into his arms, but she kept floating back up every time he attempted to pull her down. He grasped her by the shoulders and tried to push her down instead, which also didn't work. Lydia squeaked and squirmed as BJ tugged on her arms and legs from all angles, only succeeding in getting them both tangled up in his cape as they twisted and turned in mid air, fidgeting and muttering in frustration.

"Ow!" she yelled when he bent her body into an especially painful position. "Beetlejuice, I'm not a human pretzel!"

POOF!

They both cried out as they dropped to the floor together like a stone, landing still tangled in BJ's cape. Beetlejuice fought with the annoying piece of fabric for a few seconds before changing into his usual striped-suited form, making the cape vanish in an instant to reveal a giant pretzel sitting beside him. The huge, salty snack also happened to have a very weary-looking face that bore a striking resemblance to Lydia.

"Whoa!" the ghost exclaimed. "Lyds? Don't get bent outta shape on me, babes!"

"Very funny," the pretzel grumbled. "When I said I wasn't a human pretzel, I didn't mean to imply that I'm a REAL pretzel. Beetlejuice, WHAT is going on with me?!"

"I think I might know," he admitted. "But you should say somethin' to get yourself back to normal, like I gotta do when my plays-on-words turn literal."

She thought for a few seconds. "Oh, the humanity," she finally said.

There was that poof again. This time, Lydia was incredibly relieved to find she was back to her normal human self.

"Thank goodness," she breathed. "Now, PLEASE explain to me what's going on, Beej. I need to know."

Her friend took a deep breath. "Well..." he began hesitantly, "about that crazy ol' vortex... It was a portal to another dimension, I guess." He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "The trip was rough. You didn't do so good."

"What do you mean?" she asked, noting his sad expression. "Where did we end up?"

"I dunno where it was exactly," he replied. "It was mostly just really dark. Weird place. Not the kinda place ya'd wanna spend your scummer vacation. But you were..." he paused, unable to bring himself to tell her she'd actually been dying in his arms. "You were out of it. I had to sorta revive ya."

"Revive me?" Lydia raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, somethin' like that," he said. "So, I'm guessin' when I did, some of me musta rubbed off on ya. My juice didn't work while we were there, but apparently that didn't stop some of it from bein' transferred to you."

"I don't understand," she said. "If your powers didn't work, how did we get back?"

"I had a little help," he admitted grudgingly. "From Scary, Hurly and Schmo," he added with a snort.

"Huh?"

"It doesn't matter, babes," he dismissed any further discussion. "The important thing is you're okay, I'm okay, we got back, and they all lived happily ever after. The end. So let's just move on and forget it ever happened, okay?"

He hastily exited the bedroom, finished with the subject, but Lydia was right behind him.

"But what am I supposed to do now that I'm stuck with this?" she wanted to know. "How long will it last?"

Beetlejuice headed to the refrigerator in search of breakfast. "Beats me," he shrugged, and a pair of mallets appeared from nowhere to play his head like a marching bass drum. "YEEOW!" he yelled, clutching his vibrating skull. "Don'tcha hate it when that happens?"

"See? That's exactly the sort of thing I can't live with," Lydia complained. "How am I going to function in the Real World when I have to watch every word I say?"

She could've screamed when the words 'every word I say' flowed out of her mouth in bold text and remained floating in front of her face until she brushed them away.

"Aw, it's not so bad," BJ assured her as he rummaged in the fridge. "Besides, maybe you've acquired some of my other unique character traits." He emerged with what looked like an oversized, half-eaten dung beetle.

Lydia gagged. "Oh, please don't let that be true," she groaned, fighting waves of nausea.

"Well, let's find out," he suggested. "Try somethin' deliberate. Like... turn that chair into a big, ugly donkey!"

She looked at the chair he was indicating. "How?" she asked, feeling unenthusiastic.

"It's easy," he grinned, setting down his breakfast and stepping in close to her. He put an arm around her and took her right hand in his, pointing her finger at the chair. "Ya just think of what ya want it to be, take aim, and..."

ZAP!

A bolt of energy sprang forth and the chair instantly became...

"A worm?" Lydia was disappointed.

"Hey, it was a first try," the ghoul told her forgivingly. He walked over and scooped up the worm, slipping it into his inside pocket. "Save that guy for later."

"Well, it doesn't matter, anyway," the girl said. "I can't use these powers for practical purposes in the Real World. It would be like cheating at life."

BJ shrugged. "Yeah? Sounds okay to me," he said, heading back to his giant beetle on the counter.

"Of course, it would to YOU," Lydia sighed. "But I can't live my life like that. And we don't even know if this will last. I don't want to form some kind of dependency on it."

"So just do what I do and have a lotta fun with it while ya can," he recommended, hauling out a knife and fork and getting ready to tuck in.

"No," she said. "Honestly, I'd just like to be rid of it as soon as possible. I need a cure. But how do you cure 'Beetlejuice'?"

"Well, don't ask the neighbours," he snickered. "They've been tryin' to find a cure for me for years. They were cleaned outta ideas long ago. Heh, heh!"

A light went on in Lydia's head. "That's it!"

"Huh? What's it?" Beetlejuice turned away from his breakfast to see her racing for his bathroom. "Hey! If ya had to go that bad, ya coulda said somethin' sooner!" he shouted to her before turning back to his food. "Women... Pfft!"

A moment later, water could be heard running in the bathtub. For several minutes, he thought nothing of it. Then panic struck him and he gasped.

"MY TUB SCUM!"

He took off at the speed of light, sending his breakfast flying and dropping the knife and fork to clatter to the floor. He charged into the bathroom, completely unmindful of the fact that Lydia might have her clothes off. Fortunately, she was already sitting in the tub with the water up to her chest, scrubbing away with the only bit of soap she'd been able to find in the place.

"LYDIA, NO!" he wailed, making a dive for her and grabbing her by the arm. "GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OOOUUUT!"

She shrieked as he tried to pull her out of the tub. "BEETLEJUICE, DON'T! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

The ghost was acting crazy, even more so than usual. Lydia clung to the side of the tub with her free arm, trying to keep low in the water to protect her modesty. Finally, when he just wouldn't relent, she hauled off and smacked him. The blow sent him reeling backwards until he tripped and fell, landing head-first in the toilet. The cover came down on him with a heavy clunk.

While her friend was too dazed to move, Lydia took the opportunity to get out and grab a towel, wrapping it around her body before she returned to the tub to drain the water. The gurgle of liquid being sucked down the drain brought Beetlejuice out of his stupor, and he pulled his head painfully out of the mouth of the porcelain god. Still seeing stars, it took him a few seconds to register that the water in the tub was quickly disappearing. When it dawned on him, he screamed and dragged himself across the floor, reaching the bathtub and peering over the edge with terror stricken eyes just as the last of the water drained out.

"NOOOOO!"

"Oh, Beetlejuice... I'm sorry, but it had to be done," his friend told him. "I couldn't handle your powers. And it did work. See? I'm clean as a WHISTLE," she stated deliberately. Nothing happened and she smiled.

"I don't care about THAT, babes," BJ was in tears as he still hung limply over the edge of the tub. "It was the great collection of tub scum I'd accumulated! You washed it away! Years and years worth of beautiful scum... GONE DOWN THE DRAIN!"

Lydia looked on in disbelief as he threw his head back and bawled like a baby. "Sorry," she said. "But it's far from gone. Your bathtub is still plenty filthy."

"But I'll never have those top layers back," he whined. "It's the simple, subtle things ya treasure, babes!"

"Well, the good news is I used up what tiny bit of soap you had," she offered, trying to cheer him up.

"Yeah," he sniffed. "I guess that's something worth celebrating at least." He blew his nose noisily on his sleeve. "And that."

"Come on," she said, walking over and putting a hand on his shoulder. "Let me make it up to you. I'll prepare you a special breakfast instead of that old beetle you were working on."

"Rancid peanut butter and sludge sandwiches?" he asked, gazing at her with hopeful eyes.

"If that's what you want," Lydia smiled.

"Heavy on the sludge?"

"Sure."

"With a side of hundred dollar bills?"

"Beetlejuice..."

"Just askin'."

They went to the kitchen.


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

As the weeks rolled on and the last days of spring soon became only memories, Lydia finished her first year of high school and began enjoying the freedom of her summer vacation. All doubts about her relationship with Sean were forgotten, their argument having been resolved long ago, and she was having fun going places and doing things with him for the first time without the burden of any homework weighing on her mind. The warm weather presented new activities for them to share, such as swimming and canoeing at the lake, and they were allowed to stay out later through the week, which meant they could go to more late movies and concerts.

All of this did not bode well for Beetlejuice, who found himself put on the back burner time and time again; probably even more than when she'd been tied down with school work. By the time the date approached for the Neitherworld's annual Mardi Gross Festival, BJ could hardly wait, knowing that he and Lydia had always made a point to attend every year. Surely, this would be his chance to have some quality time with his best friend again. However, the day he excitedly reminded her about it, his hopes were dashed in the space of one breath.

"I'm sorry, Beej, but I can't go with you this year."

The ghost with the most was visibly stricken. "But, Lyds!" he pleaded. "We ALWAYS go to the Mardi Gross Festival! And this year I need ya to help me win the armpit competition! They've made it a tag-team event!"

"I know, and I'm really sorry," she told him, "but I've got plans to go camping with Sean this week. We're leaving tomorrow around noon."

"Well... maybe you'll be back before it's all over," he suggested hopefully. "Even if we miss the competition, we'd still have time to catch the scare dance and the evening muck 'n mire-works display if we get there before 8PM."

Lydia hated to disappoint him, but she knew it wasn't going to work out. "The festival is Wednesday, right?"

"Right," he confirmed, eagerly pressing against the glass as he peered out at her through the mirror.

"Well, I'm afraid I won't be back until the following morning," she explained, shrugging and turning her hands out apologetically.

Beetlejuice sagged like a deflated balloon at her words. Lydia felt like a heel. She hadn't seen him this disappointed since the time he bought ten pairs of underwear at a flea market and found out they weren't only clean but also completely flea-free.

"I'm really sorry, BJ," she said again. Then added, "There's always next year."

"Yeah," the ghost said sadly. "S'okay. I understand. Not like I'm torn up about it or anything." There was a sound like fabric ripping and he split in two halves. "Okay, maybe I am."

"You still have some time," she said as she watched him pull a needle and thread out of thin air and stitch himself back together. "Maybe you can find someone else to go with you."

BJ almost laughed at this. Didn't she realize? It wasn't about the Mardi Gross. It was about spending time with her. At that point, he'd have been just as happy if she'd have suggested blowing off the festival and hanging out at the roadhouse all day.

"Yeah, right. There ain't a ghoul within a hundred light-years that'd be caught dead with me," he said instead. "Not that any of 'em could be caught any other way. Pfft!"

"How long has it been since you asked anyone?" she questioned gently.

"Bah, it doesn't matter, babes," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I'm sure I can have fun and get into plenty of trouble on my own."

"I don't doubt the latter," she said, offering a smile.

He gave a half-hearted smile back and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Well, I'm gonna get goin'. Got some stuff to do. Crumb's been on my back to do somethin' with the alligators in the basement, so..."

"Okay," said Lydia. "I'll see you sometime when I get home, then."

"Yeah," there was a note of sadness still in his voice. "Later, babes."

"See-" he vanished from the glass before she could finish, "ya."

All alone in the privacy of the roadhouse, Beetlejuice sat down and cried. He knew it was bad before, but now Lydia was putting off what had become a tradition for them in favour of doing something different that didn't even include him. It wasn't like she hadn't known the Mardi Gross was coming when she made camping arrangements with Mould-boy.

"When they start cancellin' plans with you to make plans with someone else, it's all over," the ghost spoke to himself, feeling as if his heart had been wrung and hung out to dry.

He sat with his head in his hands, eyes pointed at the floor and tears streaming down his face. He watched a beetle scurry out from underneath the couch and stop directly between his feet, but he was too depressed to even reach down and grab it. The tick-tock of the clock was loud in the room, mocking him as it served as a constant reminder that time would just keep ticking callously along with or without him, indifferent to his heartbreak as it brought change after miserable change.

"I gotta get outta here," he decided, getting up and floating through the wall instead of using the door.

He made his way into town, wandering aimlessly and paying little attention to anything that was going on around him. There were plenty of opportunities for pranks and other mischief along the way that might have brought his spirits up if he'd noticed them, but he was oblivious to all in his depression. All he could think about was Lydia and how he felt she was slipping away from him.

Lost in the sea of his darkest thoughts, it took a familiar, grating voice addressing him to finally bring his troubled mind back to the present.

"Why, if it isn't the ghost with the most," Scuzzo the clown greeted BJ in his typical irritating fashion. "Most ugly puss, that is! What's wrong, Beetlejerk? You're lookin' kinda blue!"

The clown whipped a blueberry pie out from behind his back and pitched it at Beetlejuice, striking him square in the face with the accuracy of a marksman. The ghost didn't have it in him at that point to even be angry. He simply stood there with blueberry filling and bits of crust slowly dribbling down his face and all over his suit as Scuzzo ripped into a fit of laughter.

"Awww," the annoying clown crooned between guffaws. "Too bad! Here, let me help ya with that!"

He produced a seltzer bottle from his pocket and sprayed the remains of the pie away, leaving Beetlejuice sopping wet. This was followed by another gust of unbridled laughter at BJ's expense. And yet the ghost still did nothing.

"'Bout time ya cleaned up your act anyway, Beetlebreath!" the offender went on. "Ya've always been a filthy, stinky schmuck with no taste!"

"Don't try to cheer me up," BJ said, his tone dull and without feeling.

"Oh, forgive me," Scuzzo sarcastically hummed. "It's a lot more fun hurtin' ya, anyway!"

This time, he pulled an oversized mallet from behind his back and immediately brought it down on Beetlejuice's toes. The ghoul screeched and began hopping up and down in agony, his reaction inducing the most boisterous gale of laughter yet.

"Are ya hoppin' mad yet?" Scuzzo taunted, just hankering for trouble. "HA, HA, HA, HA!"

Beetlejuice folded to the ground, gritting his teeth and making a hissing sound as he sucked in his breath and tried to control the pain. Under normal circumstances, Scuzzo would have been toast by now. Probably literally. However, the downhearted dead man was just too wrapped up in his own misery to fight back. His lack of anger was even becoming weird in the eyes of his tormentor, who usually had no difficulty pushing him to his breaking point. The delinquent clown decided it was time to try another tactic.

"Where's your little friend today, Beetlepuss?" he prodded slyly. "It ain't often I get ya all to myself. I was startin' to think you two boobs were inseparable."

At his words, there was the most subtle change in BJ's demeanor as he sat clutching his injured toes on the sidewalk. As slight as it was, Scuzzo caught it. He may have been a clown, but he wasn't always as stupid as everyone believed him to be. With the trained eye of a predator seeking weakness in its prey, he spotted his new point of attack and moved in for the kill.

"Say now," he continued, drawing his words out slowly and deliberately, "I just bet that would explain the droopy face you were wearin', comin' down the street, huh? Poooor Beetlejuice... alllll alone today. Driftin' along like a hopeless dope. Hmmm... yeah... that's what you look like... a poor, hopeless dope that just lost his best friend! HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!"

That was it. Those were like the magic words that penetrated the shell and cut to the very core. Something inside Beetlejuice snapped like a lightning strike.

Before Scuzzo even knew what happened, he was lying on the ground and looking up at the most horrific and terrifying monster he could've ever imagined looming over him. Blazing eyes of red-hot flame seared deep into his soul, and what seemed like a million murderous, burning snakes lunged at him from where they encircled the beast's head in a writhing mane of fire and scale. A deafening roar spewed forth from the mouth of the behemoth, along with the heat of what could have been the flesh-melting breath of an angry volcano, threatening to destroy the clown in a surge of fiery, molten death. He definitely hadn't been expecting this reaction.

"I WAS ONLY KIDDIN'!" he pleaded, trying to shield his face. "I WAS ONLY KIDDIIIIIIIINNNGGG!"

As Scuzzo burst into terrified tears and wailed like a spineless banshee, the raging demon that held him captive lifted him from the ground in its great, taloned hand. Like a pitcher at the mound, it drew back it's serpent-like arm and wound up, the clown still screaming in its grasp. When it let him go, he flew for miles... and miles... and miles... screaming all the way until he was heard no more.

Still caught up in the throes of an unquenchable, violent rage, the monster then turned its burning eyes upon the town. Ghouls of all kinds ran for cover as the nearest buildings took the brunt of its wrath, and in minutes, an entire portion of the community was levelled, left in nothing but smoking ruins. The beast raged on, smashing and crushing structure after structure as it moved through the city, leaving a vast trail of dust and rubble in its wake.

Someone called the mayor. Maynot was only half listening until he heard one name: Beetlejuice.

"He's WHAT?! HOW many buildings?! Do you realize what this'll do to ME in the next election!? I'LL HAVE HIS HEAD AND FEED HIS STINKIN' BODY TO THE SANDWORMS!"

He slammed the phone down and started putting away the barrow loads of money he'd been shamelessly playing with. This time, Beetlejuice would pay for his destructive hijinks. He'd make sure of it.

Meanwhile, the chaos continued. The monster, or Beetlejuice, powered straight through everything in his way. Nothing was spared in his blind fury as he just devastated all in his path. When the blare of police sirens finally echoed in what remained of the empty streets, some barely-functioning rational part of his mind recognized the sound as an alarm that meant it was time to make an exit; and with the great, leathery wings of a dragon, he took to the air and flew off into the wilderness that bordered the city, heading for the sanctuary of the distant mountains.

Lydia or no Lydia, he definitely wouldn't be going to Mardi Gross this year.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Lydia arrived home from camping Thursday morning wearing a big smile. She always felt refreshed after spending time in nature, and it had been an especially fun time getting to share the experience with Sean. When she started unpacking in her room, humming cheerfully to herself as she rooted around in her backpack, she carefully pulled out the remains of an abandoned wasp nest she'd found, intending to give it to Beetlejuice as a little souvenir.

"It may not have the wasps in it anymore," she said out loud as she placed the nest in a gift bag, "but hopefully he likes it."

She tied the bag shut and drew a grinning skull on the tag, hoping to make it as appealing as possible. Her friend's disappointment about the Mardi Gross Festival was still planted firmly in her mind, and she wanted to let him know that she'd been thinking of him while she was away.

Since it was the morning after the festival, Lydia assumed that Beetlejuice would probably be resting after all the activities from the day before, so she decided it would be a good time to deliver the gift while she knew it was likely he was at home. He probably hadn't even gotten up for breakfast yet, which meant she could wait at the roadhouse and surprise him when he got out of bed. The thought of breakfast reminded her of something else, and she began fishing in her backpack again. She soon found what she was looking for. It was a chocolate bar that had been opened fresh and accidentally dropped in the mud on their first night. Rather than throwing it away, (and much to puzzled expressions from Sean), she had wrapped it up and saved it for BJ, knowing he would genuinely appreciate the additional dark coating that covered the chocolate. She untied the gift bag and slipped the bar in with the wasp nest, feeling confident that her little presents would make her friend smile.

Then, all prepared for her surprise visit, she began her ritual that would transport her to the supernatural realm that Beetlejuice called 'home'.

"Knowing that I should be wary... still I venture someplace scary... Ghostly haunting I turn loose... Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

Lightning flashed and thunder crashed, and in a whirlwind of magic that altered everything it touched, she was taken to the place she still so much adored.

But something was different. Lydia opened the door between worlds to hear the wail of sirens in the distance. She looked towards town and saw smoke rising above the outline of the buildings, different from the usual layer of smog she was familiar with seeing. In the Neitherworld, strange things happened every day, but this gave her a peculiar sense of unease.

"That's odd," she said as she approached the roadhouse doors and let herself in. "I wonder what's going on."

As suspected, Beetlejuice was not up and about, so Lydia set down the gift and settled herself in front of the television to wait. She clicked the tv on and found the channel on the Neitherworld News.

"Three days after the catastrophic event, the city still lies in ruin and disarray as spooks all over try to recover from the devastating damage," the newscaster announced as scenes of the wasted town were displayed on the screen. "Police and Rescue Services have been working round-the-clock to ensure safety and restore order to the community. Eyewitness reports are still pouring in, confirming the suspected identity of the monster responsible for the destruction to be that of the Neitherworld's most notorious and obnoxious prankster... Beetlejuice."

Lydia nearly choked on her next intake of breath. "WHAT?!"

"I saw the whole thing," said a witness being interviewed on the scene. "That Beetlejerk was having a conversation with Scuzzo the clown and he just went off on him for no reason. He turned himself into the horrible creature that did THIS! I saw it! Everyone saw it! Beetlejuice is a menace and someone needs to make him pay!"

The girl could hardly believe her ears. She definitely had her doubts about the witness' account because she knew that any confrontation between Beetlejuice and Scuzzo wouldn't have been a mere 'conversation'. Scuzzo had to have provoked him, somehow. But would her friend really cause this much havoc? And why? What could the clown have said or done to make him do such a terrible thing?

"The monster, Beetlejuice, was last seen flying in the western sky towards the Schlocky Mountains," the newscaster continued the story. "Authorities are calling for his immediate arrest upon location. If anyone has any information regarding the suspect's whereabouts, please contact-"

Lydia clicked off the tv and raced for the door. She had to find him. Somehow, she had to find out where he was and get to him before anyone else. She knew if he were captured and taken into custody, he'd be thrown to the sandworms faster than she could blink.

She burst outside and whistled for Doomie. The car responded right away, zooming around the corner and pulling up in front of her.

"Beetlejuice is in trouble, Doomie," she told him urgently, jumping into the driver's seat. "We've got to find him before the authorities do! I need you to fly me to the Schlocky Mountains. We'll start looking there."

Doomie revved his engine and honked his horn like a bugle ready to lead the charge. He didn't know what was going on, but if Lydia said Beetlejuice needed his help, he was willing to give everything he had. In spite of all the ghost's mean jokes and gibes towards him, he loved BJ as much as Lydia did in his own way. The living automobile was of a loving, forgiving nature and had a big heart to match his abnormal brain, a feature that put him above a great many persons of flesh and blood.

Lydia engaged the car's flight system and gave the command. "Let's go!"

With a roar of the engine they took to the sky with blinding speed, pointed in the direction of the far-off peaks. Soaring with the wind, the teen girl was filled with courage and determination to save her friend that overrode any prior sense of fear she might have felt under different circumstances.

"Don't worry, Beetlejuice," she spoke out loud. "I'm going to find you and get to the bottom of this. I don't know what happened or why, but no best friend of mine is going to be fed to the sandworms!"


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Somewhere in the dark, quiet refuge of a remote mountain cave, a great beast was sleeping. Resting comfortably in a state of semi hibernation, it had closed its blazing eyes three days prior and not opened them since. It knew nothing of the aftermath of its attack on the city that was keeping everyone in upheaval, including the call for its capture and punishment, nor was it aware that a certain teenage girl was on a desperate quest to find it before its prospective captors.

The aforementioned girl in search of the beast was, at that moment, on her way to the very mountains in which the monster was residing, looking along the way for any sign of the best friend she knew as Beetlejuice. Despite the odds she knew were terribly against her, Lydia Deetz vowed she would find him. She just had to.

As she cruised across the sky by aid of Doomie, she did spot a lone figure walking on the ground below, and she was momentarily filled with joy. Sadly, upon a closer look, she was disappointed and a bit surprised to identify the figure as Scuzzo the clown. He appeared to be all alone and was making his way on foot through the wilderness, back in the direction of the city. Lydia wasn't aware of the ironic justice that could be found in this scene, since she had no knowledge of Scuzzo's cruel words to her friend, but it didn't displease her to see this particular character trudging along so miserably alone. His mean-spirited antics had never earned him a place in her heart.

Upon glancing up and recognizing the car that flew overhead, the tattered-looking clown angrily shook his fist and threw a coconut scream pie that narrowly missed Doomie's rear bumper. If Lydia had even briefly so much as toyed with the idea of offering him help, she had no intention of doing so now. She flew on without a second thought.

When she finally arrived at her destination, having discovered no further clues as to BJ's exact whereabouts on the journey, Lydia found that the mountain range and surrounding area was markedly vast. There were an infinite number of cliffs, crags, crevices and caves that could hide thousands of Beetlejuices, let alone one, and the land below was covered in thick forest. Still, she began combing the vicinity with the wholehearted belief that she could indeed locate him, even though her rational mind kept telling her it was unlikely.

It was only after several hours of checking and re-checking, flying back and forth over many of the same spots more than once, that she began to get discouraged and have serious doubts about finding her friend. Regardless of having been seen heading in this direction, he really could be anywhere. He could have changed course at any time and no one saw. She knew, however, that the mountains would provide just the type of safe haven he'd be needing right now, so it was very possible he had come here and remained. That was the only idea that made her keep looking. But after hours of searching and seeing no sign whatsoever, she was definitely losing hope.

It was only when she was finally prepared to move on and search elsewhere that she happened to spot something by chance on a high cliff that stuck out like a platform at the mouth of a large cave.

"Doomie, look!" she called out. "Down there! Those look like huge footprints!"

The car saw what she was talking about. He rumbled his doubts about the gigantic, clawed tracks belonging to the missing ghost with the most.

"Beetlejuice turned himself into some kind of monster when he went on his rampage," she explained to him. "He may have stayed in that form and made those tracks. We have to check, Doomie. It's the only possible sign we've seen."

Understanding now, Doomie beeped in agreement and made a dive for the cliff. He landed smoothly with plenty of room to spare on the large, flat overhang.

Lydia got out and looked at the footprints up close, only then realizing just how large they were. She knew she was taking a big risk. If they hadn't been made by Beetlejuice in his monster form, there was no telling what sort of creature had done so. She followed them to the mouth of the cave, a growing sense of dread welling up in her chest as she saw them disappearing into darkness. She was definitely going to need a light.

She returned to the car and checked the glove compartment, remembering that she'd kept a flashlight there ages ago. Given the fact that Beetlejuice never cleaned, it was still there, along with some dirty socks, an open bag of Cheezy Beetles, a couple of dead spiders, some miscellaneous bones, and a variety of other garbage. But also among the trash was something else that caught her eye. Stuck to the bottom of the compartment with what appeared to be some sticky, green, melted candy-like substance was a photo of herself and BJ together. With great care, Lydia peeled it away and brought it out into the sunlight. She looked at the image of them with their arms around each other and smiles on their faces, and she smiled herself as she remembered the day the photo was taken. A sigh escaped her as she thought about the friend she loved, missing and wanted for crimes for which she had a feeling he somehow wasn't entirely responsible.

"Please, Beetlejuice..." she whispered softly as she put the photo in her pocket. "Let me find you before they do."

She tested the flashlight and was relieved to discover the batteries weren't dead as the bulb produced a surprisingly strong beam. Now, if only the rest of the search would continue with this sort of luck, everything would be fine.

Light in hand and armed with only her courage, she re-approached the cave and entered the darkness. As she slowly descended deeper and deeper into black, she automatically made as little noise as possible. The thought of suddenly coming upon some unfamiliar creature kept her every footstep hesitant and her tread soft. Not that the light wouldn't alert any lurking monsters of her presence, but the instinctual urge to tiptoe seemed to overrule her sense of logic.

When she rounded the next corner and found herself in a cavern that dwarfed the initial passageway, she stopped in her tracks, daunted not only by the vastness of the space itself, but by the numerous other tunnels her light revealed in the surrounding cave walls. Her heart sank as she realized she was nowhere near prepared for this. Finding Beetlejuice would be a miracle all on its own, and not getting lost in here in the process would be a completely separate one.

In her despair, she decided to take a chance, throwing caution to the wind and tried calling out for him.

"BEETLEJUICE!"

Lydia's voice echoed in the confines of the huge cavern, making her friend's name bounce off the rocky walls. Even the floor seemed to vibrate with the power she'd used to belt it out. She listened with bated breath as the repeated sound rattled around the mammoth mountain cave and gradually died off, much like her prior sense of hope.

It was strange, but even after the last echo of Beetlejuice's name deteriorated into silence, she still felt as if she could perceive a vibration through the soles of her feet. As a matter of fact, what initially began as a slight vibration seemed to be progressing into a full-on rumble. Fear struck her as she began to think she'd caused a cave-in. If the passage behind her collapsed, she could be sealed in and lost forever. She had to get out.

The girl pivoted on her heel and made to run back the way she came, but it was not to be. Before she'd taken a single step, the entire cavern came alight as if powered by a hundred torches. Lydia was compelled to turn back to face the massive chamber of earth and stone, and her eyes widened as something began to rise from behind a huge rock that jutted out from the cave wall to her right. The new, brightly-glowing light seemed to be emanating directly from it, and she watched in awe as it soon became clear that it was a living source rather than some natural phenomenon.

Her jaw dropped when, for the first time, she laid eyes on the enormous, fiery monster that stiffly hauled its titanic body out into full view, and she immediately wished she had not waited to see it. Now she was rooted to the spot in terror as it emerged with a mighty roar; its fierce, flaming eyes coming to land on her with obvious awareness that she was the one responsible for disturbing its slumber. WHAT had she awoken?!

When the horrible creature started on a deliberate path for her, Lydia couldn't help but scream. Paralyzed in fear as it drew closer, she could see the individual wriggling forms of countless angry snakes, all ablaze as they composed the burning mass of the monster's mane. It was as if all the fires of Hell had sprung to life in this one entity of pure nightmare, and Lydia continued screaming as she gazed upon its full, horrific glory.

She felt her knees begin to buckle and finally give beneath her, and she collapsed to the ground as the beast moved ever nearer. Scrambling against the cool rock and dirt of the cave floor, her hand came to rest on a stone the size of a softball. Her fingers clenched around it and she hurled it at the demonic giant, striking it on the right brow. She had but a second to be pleased with her shot, for it served only to further anger the beast, inciting it to increase the pace as it lunged for her. She shrieked and managed to roll out of the way of its first attack, her elbow knocking into the flashlight that she didn't even remember dropping. The creature pulled back and reared up again, giving Lydia time to grab the light and shine the beam into one burning eye. The monster blinked several times in confusion, the flames in its sockets extinguishing each time and immediately re-igniting. It loomed over the quivering girl, drooling putrid-smelling acid that spilled onto the ground with a sickening sizzle.

It was then, so frighteningly close up, that Lydia saw the black and white stripes on what appeared to be remnants of clothing still clinging to the beast's body. And in one mind-numbing instant, she knew.

"BEETLEJUICE, NO!" she cried, sounding both commanding and pleading at the same time.

The creature bellowed, giving her an additional moment to think fast and pull the photo she'd taken from the car's glove compartment out of her pocket. She held it up in front of her like some kind of protective amulet and turned the light upon it, spotlighting it to draw the monster's attention as she shoved the picture towards its snarling face.

"IT'S ME!" she yelled. "IT'S LYDIA! DON'T HURT ME, BJ! YOU'RE MY BEST FRIEND! I LOVE YOU!"

In the midst of another roar, the blazing eyes fell on the photo and its terrible wrath came to a sudden halt. The ear-shattering noise petered out as the great behemoth paused, seemingly in a state of limbo as it took in the tiny image presented before it. A strange, new spark of awareness slowly appeared to light its fearsome features. It let out another noise; an incredibly low, earth-shaking growl that sounded like a thunderous repeat of Lydia's name. There was a long moment of no sound or movement from either side as both girl and monster stared at one another. Lydia, lying there trembling on the ground, wasn't sure what to expect next.

Then, all at once, the beast seemed to collapse in on itself. The raging fires that made up its eyes burned low and were extinguished like the flames of twin oil lamps being turned down and snuffed out. The myriad of vicious snakes lost their fierce passion and recoiled to disappear completely, their own fire going out as well. By the comparatively dim light of the flashlight, Lydia watched as the creature's immense, terrifying mass folded up like a jack-in-the-box and gradually morphed into a much smaller figure. And when she finally saw the familiar, welcome form of her dearest friend standing before her, she felt she could have cried.

"Lydia?" Beetlejuice's voice was hoarse and his tone confused, but it was the greatest thing she could ever imagine hearing at that moment.

Still in shock, the girl couldn't seem to find her own voice to speak. Instead, she shakily pushed herself up off the ground and staggered to her feet. She closed the short distance between them, practically falling against her friend. He automatically brought his arms around her in what was almost a catch, only to have his own wobbly legs give out and make them both crumple to the cave floor together. Lydia didn't care. She hugged him tight and pressed her face to his chest, suddenly feeling very worn out.

"Don't ever do that again," she finally managed to say, although she wasn't even sure what specific part of the whole ordeal she was referring to.

Beetlejuice sighed wearily. "At this point, I don't feel like doin' ANYTHING ever again," he admitted. Why in the Neitherworld did he feel so tired?

"Me neither," the girl agreed, grateful to be using him as a pillow in her personal shock-induced exhaustion.

BJ glanced around at the dark cave he only just realized they were in. "What even happened, babes? I don't remember nothin' about us goin' on any cave exploration thing-a-ma-boob."

"That's because we didn't. But somehow I'm not surprised you don't remember." She paused, hesitant about getting into this right now. "What's the last thing you can recall?"

The ghost frowned. "That unfunny sack of scuzz pullin' his tired, old, clown gags on me, out on the street," he said, getting irritated just thinking about it.

Lydia gave it a second, then asked bluntly, "Did he start it or did you?"

"Hey!"

"Well, I've gotta ask," she told him. "You do have a reputation, you know."

"Oh, yeah," he said with a grin, as if he'd forgotten that fact. "He started it. I was mindin' my own business for a change. Honest Ape."

"That's 'Abe'," she corrected, unable to prevent a smile. "And I believe you. That clown goes looking for trouble."

"Yeah, and he knows right where to find me," the ghost agreed with a snicker.

The girl sighed tiredly. "You won't laugh when you find out what we have to deal with now," she said, her own words sounding ominous to her ears.

"Whadda ya mean, babes?" his voice vibrated through his chest as it took on a deeper, more serious tone.

This was going to be difficult. She was only just starting to feel the gravity of the situation herself. She'd been so focused on finding him, the severity of what they had to face afterwards hadn't really begun to sink in.

"I don't quite know how to tell you, BJ," she explained, "but the law is after you."

"And dogs bark, cats meow, Jacques is a bonehead and my feet smell like Limburger," he jumped in. "Big deal. Nothin' new, babes."

Lydia shook her head against him. "You don't understand, Beej... You may not remember doing it, and I personally don't feel you're completely responsible, but Scuzzo must have set you off and you..."

She stopped. She could feel Beetlejuice holding his breath, waiting for her to give him the bad news.

"You destroyed a large portion of the city," she finished. "You turned into this raging monster and went on a real rampage. The damage is staggering. It's all over the news."

"Did anyone get it on camera?" he asked.

"I don't think so."

"Too bad," he was disappointed. "If they had, we coulda made some money in Japan."

"Beetlejuice, this is serious," she said, pulling away just enough to shine the flashlight in his face. "You trashed the town, then you disappeared here in the mountains for three days. The authorities are looking for you, but they haven't started an extensive search yet. They're too wrapped up in rectifying the damage right now. Fortunately, that gave me time to beat them to the punch and I got to you first. But, Beej, if they catch you, you know better than anyone what will happen, whether you meant to do it or not."

It was true. He did know. If it was as bad as what Lydia said it was, it meant a one way ticket to Sandworm Land. And he knew that Mayor Maynot would be just itching to send him personally. Actually, he wasn't sure who would enjoy it more; the mayor or Judge Mental.

"So what do we do, Lyds?" he asked, honestly at a loss.

"The only thing we CAN do, for now," she replied. "We hide you."

"But where?" BJ wondered. "I can't go home and hide under the bed or in the closet with the skeletons or somethin', and you already said that pretty soon they'd be lookin' here next. There ain't many places I can go that they won't eventually find me." Panic was creeping into his voice. "I'm a ghost on the run, babes!"

Both of them yelped as his body suddenly rose from the floor and his legs started pumping of their own accord. With Lydia still in his arms, he ran all over the cave like a madman, screaming at the top of his lungs. A particularly dark corner put a fast end to it when he banged his head on a small overhang of rock.

"Oomph!" his grunt of pain echoed all around them.

"Settle down, Beetlejuice," Lydia told him as she pulled herself out of his grasp and he rubbed his sore head. "We have to stay calm and rational about this. I have an idea, but you'll have to agree to a couple things you may not like."

He groaned, a combination of dread in anticipation of her plan and the pain from his throbbing skull. "What sorta idea?"

"The Neitherworld is too dangerous for you," she explained, "so I think the best thing would be to keep you in my world. As long as you don't pull pranks on my parents and you stay hidden when they come to my room, you can stay with me."

BJ blinked in surprise. "Really? You'd let me hide out with you?"

"Yes," she replied. "But I want you to promise me one thing."

"Oh, no," he began biting his nails. "Ya know how I hate it when ya start tossin' around the P-word, babes."

She ignored his comment and gave it to him straight. "I want you to see Dr. Zigmund Void again."

"WHAT?!" he shouted. "Whadda ya want me to see that old quack for?!" He turned himself into a rather ugly duck sporting glasses and a beard that resembled those of Dr. Void.

"I think you know why," Lydia said. "You're not well, BJ. You haven't been for months. Ever since I met Sean, as a matter of fact."

"Aw, that's a load of baloney!" the ghost denied the accusation, changing from the duck into a huge hunk of the processed meat.

"No, it isn't," she argued. "This incident proves it. I don't know exactly what Scuzzo said or did to you that made you lose control like that, but when have you ever done something this bad and then not even remembered doing it? And you're depressed, Beetlejuice. You think I haven't noticed?"

The stubborn ghoul remained in denial. "Horse feathers!" he became a horse with wings. "Poppycock!" he changed into a rooster making old-fashioned popcorn over a stove. "Steaming piles of bull-"

"HOLD IT!" Lydia stopped him. "Listen to me. If you see Dr. Void and he diagnoses you with a genuine problem, it may help us when we eventually have to plead your case in court. They could lighten your sentence if a doctor certifies that you weren't responsible for your actions."

"Yeah," he said with the skeptical lifting of an eyebrow. "Instead of feedin' me to the sandworms, maybe they'll jam me into a straight jacket and chuck me in the loony bin with the other assorted nuts." An array of walnuts, peanuts, almonds and others rained down on him, burying him in seconds. He stuck his head out of the pile and looked at Lydia with worried eyes. "C'mon, Lyds. That's no solution."

"We don't have much choice," she said. "It's a risk we have to take, unless you wanna face the Neitherworld justice system with no defense except a claim of memory loss."

The B-guy sighed. "Alright, alright, alright..." he said, throwing up his hands in defeat. "I get what you're sayin' and everything... But what about you, Lyds? Won't this screw up all your plans for the summer with Mould-boy? I'm sure ya don't want ME hangin' around when you're havin' all your fun and stuff."

His sad expression wasn't lost on Lydia. "Some plans will just have to wait," she said with no indication that she minded. "And I'll still be able to go some places and do things with Sean. You'll just have to behave yourself when you're alone. I think you can be trusted enough that I won't have to Beetlejuice-sit you 24 hours a day." She gave him a wink to let him know she meant no insult.

He looked at her like a dog that had been starved for weeks and was suddenly being offered a bone. "Ya mean you would really cancel some of your plans with Mouldy..." he began, picking nervously at his tie, "... for me?"

"Of course," she assured him. "Beetlejuice..." she took his hands, "I know things have been kinda different between us since I started dating Sean, but nothing has changed in terms of how I feel about you. You're still my very best friend..."

She paused and BJ gazed at her with wide eyes in the low light. When had Lydia grown so tall? He hardly even had to look down at her anymore.

"And, to be honest, I'm worried about you," she went on. "You really haven't been yourself for a long time. I know you've tried to hide it, but I can tell when you're unhappy. I know you're depressed. And maybe..." she took a breath and let it out in a sigh, "maybe I've been neglecting our friendship. I don't like to make excuses, but I've been finding it hard to balance having a boyfriend with spending time with you. I guess it's because we were always so close... Maybe I've been overdoing things, trying to get used to the idea of growing up and not being so dependent on our friendship myself. I dunno."

"Gee, maybe you should let the old quack analyze YOU, babes," BJ said good-naturedly.

She laughed a little. "Maybe. But I'm not the one that went all monster-mode and wrecked the city." She reached up and gently pressed a finger to his nose, producing a light honk as if from that of a clown.

The ghost gave her a guilty grin. "Yeah, my powers probably make this slightly more of a problem than it'd be for most other poor slobs. Heh, heh..."

"Then you admit that something is wrong?" she asked.

"Hey, wait a minute, now, I never said that," he hopped right back on the denial wagon.

"Beej, denying it won't make it better," Lydia told him gently. "If you won't admit you have a problem now, after all the damage that's already been done, what will it take? What if, next time, you end up hurting yourself?"

"Lucky I'm already dead, huh?" he snorted.

"You can still be hurt," she argued, though her voice was soft. "And you can still be destroyed. You may be a ghost, but you're not invincible, Beetlejuice, no matter how powerful you like to think you are. There's a reason you're so afraid of sandworms."

She watched him bring a finger to his chin in thought. At least she had him considering it now.

She leaned forward and put her arms around him, pulling him into another hug. "I don't want to lose you, you know. Ever. I don't think I could bear it."

The ghost felt his walls beginning to crumble. She was playing him like a fiddle.

"And if you truly have no feelings about being a danger to yourself," Lydia went on as she continued holding him, "think about how you'd feel if you accidentally hurt ME."

He spoke right up at this, his tone adamant. "No way, Lyds. I'd never hurt you."

"You almost did right here in this cave," she contradicted him. "When I found you, you were still in the form of that mindless monster. I know you'd never purposely do me any harm when you're yourself, but you attacked me here today, Beetlejuice."

His body tensed. "I did?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "And I don't like to say it... but the truth is you could've even killed me." She looked up and saw his horrified expression. "It wasn't REALLY you," she added quickly. "It was the monster. But imagine how you'd feel if you returned to your old self and discovered your monster had done something terrible to your best friend."

Beetlejuice went silent for several seconds. "I'd never forgive myself," he finally said, unusually low-voiced and serious.

Lydia squeezed him tighter. "Well, then," she said.

She felt him inhale a deep, noiseless breath, holding it for a second before letting it out in a long sigh. Then he gently drew away from her, placing his hands on her shoulders and putting her at arm's length.

"Lydia..." he started to say.

"Wait," she interrupted and paused to listen. "What's that sound?"

Beetlejuice stopped and strained his ears, attempting to hear what she was talking about. He could hear nothing.

Lydia listened for several more seconds, then her eyes grew wide. "Come on," she commanded, abruptly wheeling around and running for the passage leading out.

"Babes?" he called after her, quickly finding himself alone in the dark as she whipped around a corner and all the light disappeared with her. The cave suddenly felt a lot colder and creepier. He kicked his legs into gear and high-tailed it after her.

When they reached the outside and began blinking in the sunlight, he could finally hear what her ears had detected from deep in the cave. It sounded like the rumble from an airplane or helicopter. He made a mental note to get some of the wax flushed out of his ears. If nothing else, he could put it on toast.

"It's them!" Lydia grabbed the sleeve of his jacket with one hand and pointed at a dot in the sky with the other. "It's the police! Beetlejuice, we have to get out of here!"

The dead man squinted at the dot. He decided he'd get his eyes checked, too.

His friend grabbed his face and turned him to look at her. "I need you to promise me that you'll co-operate with me," she said with great urgency. "RIGHT. NOW."

"Well, I, uh..." Beetlejuice started to hem and haw.

"We don't have time!" Lydia blurted. "Promise me, Beej!"

His eyes drifted back to the dot in the sky. It was rapidly getting closer. Now he could make out the police colours on what was obviously a helicopter.

"Aww..." he groaned, not wanting to give in, but feeling the panic rising.

"Beetlejuice, say it!"

"Ohh..." his stomach was twisting itself into knots. He gritted his teeth. "FINE! I PROMISE!"

Lydia swung her head to look over at Doomie, who'd been waiting patiently. "Doomie, can you make it back home by yourself?"

The car beeped confidently.

"Good," she said. "Take an alternate route. Don't let them see you."

Doomie flashed a smile and revved his engine. He gave her a wink before he dove over the side of the cliff and made for the cover of the trees below.

No sooner was he out of sight than the girl was chanting the magic B-words.

"Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

There was a whoosh and a pop, and both Lydia and Beetlejuice appeared in the safety of her bedroom. With matching groans, the pair of them collapsed side-by-side on her bed, exhausted from the stress of the events and just so completely relieved to be safe.

BJ was the first to eventually speak. "Ya know, I been thinkin'..."

Lydia turned her head to look at him tiredly.

"I still remember what Dr. Void looks like," he said. "I don't think I need to see him again."

She hit him with a pillow. He decided to give no further argument.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

The next day, after a night spent recovering from their harrowing experiences, Lydia returned to The Neitherworld to make an appointment for Beetlejuice with Dr. Void while BJ remained in the sanctuary of her bedroom. Alone, with nothing to do and completely bored out of his mind, the ghost spent the first half hour semi-dozing on his friend's bed, letting the sounds of bugs buzzing about outside keep him company as they drifted in through the open window. When he did eventually begin dropping off into deeper sleep, one of his own loud snores woke him with a start, and he found it impossible to shut his mind off again afterwards. His rest spoiled, he rolled over with a grumble and let his eyes roam around the room.

Lydia's room was essentially the same as it ever was, with only a few features that had been recently added. The most glaring of these additional features were a few framed photos that stuck out at him more like burning welts than sore thumbs. They were pictures of Lydia and Sean together that hung on the walls, and one of Sean alone that sat on her nightstand. This last one in particular caused a decided sting when he'd first noticed it, as Beetlejuice seemed to remember a photo of himself having previously occupied that same spot.

In an act of what was nothing but jealous spite as he laid eyes on it again, he pointed a finger at the photo and magically made a huge set of buck teeth protrude from the kid's lips. Chuckling to himself, he added a couple of zits for good measure. His giggles were short lived, however, for it wasn't long before feelings of guilt washed over him. Lydia had gone out of her way to find him; then she let him hide here in her room, stinking up her bed while she went to get help for him; and here he was messing with her things. He sighed. He hated having feelings. Reluctantly, he pointed at the photo again and removed the buck teeth. The zits, he decided, could stay.

Only minutes later, the sound of the doorbell came from downstairs, interrupting the fascinating study (yeah, right) of the paint irregularities on the ceiling he'd engaged in. At first, Beetlejuice ignored it, but when it rang a second time, he remembered Lydia mentioning that Delia and the Chuck-wagon were away visiting some relatives for a couple days. Feeling like an idiot for staying cooped up in the bedroom when he could be roaming the house, he floated downstairs and peeked out the window. To his surprise and irritation, it was Sean standing outside the door, and BJ noticed something clutched in his hand.

"What's that little Mould-meister want now?" the ghost muttered to himself.

When the boy rang a third time, Beetlejuice couldn't resist seeing what the fuss was about. In one of his typical gutsy moves, he turned himself into Charles and answered the door.

"Oh, hi, Mr. Deetz," Sean greeted him, excitement shining out of his blue eyes. "Is Lydia around?"

"Lydia's busy," BJ said rudely in her father's voice. "Whadda ya want?"

The kid looked a bit taken aback by the unusual attitude from the normally kind and friendly Charles Deetz. "Oh. Well, I just got two front row tickets for Iron Hellcat tonight. I was so excited to tell her... I'm sorry, I guess I should have called first, but it was last minute."

Beetlejuice thought about this. He SHOULD slam the door in the twerp's face, but he knew Lydia loved Iron Hellcat. She would definitely want to go to this concert, and he winced inwardly at the thought of how disappointed she'd be if she found out she'd missed this opportunity and Mouldy ended up having to give the tickets to someone else. Again, he hated having feelings.

"Just a minute," he told the boy gruffly.

He closed the door and changed from Lydia's father into the girl herself. Then he re-opened it, not even bothering to wait the time it would have taken her father to get her.

"Hi, Moul- um, Sean," the phony Lydia greeted sweetly.

"Lydia!" Sean was so happy to see her, he didn't even question her practically instantaneous appearance. "Look what I got! Two tickets to the Iron Hellcat show tonight! Front row! My friend had them and couldn't go at the last minute, so he gave them to me! Isn't that awesome?" He grabbed what he thought was his girlfriend's hand and placed her ticket in it. "You've gotta go with me! I won't go if you can't go!"

Beetlejuice was incredibly tempted to tell him she couldn't, just to see the disappointment on his face, but he stuck to his more altruistic plan strictly for Lydia's sake.

"Deadly vu!" he feigned excitement in a flawless imitation of his friend. "Of course, I'll go!"

Sean nearly leapt into the air. "Great!" he exclaimed. "I'll pick you up at 7:00 tonight! This is gonna be so awesome!"

BJ gasped when the boy suddenly pulled him into an embrace and swung him in a circle. He squirmed and tried to pull away, but Sean held him tightly and, to Beetlejuice's horror, began closing in to give 'Lydia' a kiss. Thinking fast, the sly spook opened his mouth wide and let his rancid breath break the deal. The kid recoiled immediately, and his 'girlfriend' grinned at him.

"Onions in my lunch," she said, batting her eyelashes coyly.

Sean chuckled and backed off. "I'll give you that later, then," he said. "See ya tonight!"

"Byeeeee..." BJ sang, waving as Sean headed for his car. Then he stepped back inside and slammed the door, changing back into himself. "Ya sap," he growled.

Lydia returned from The Neitherworld a few hours later. Upon finding her bedroom vacant, she checked downstairs and found her ghostly friend lounging on the couch in front of the tv, taking in the horrors of Real World programming. An empty container sat beside him with what looked like the remnants of ancient spaghetti still clinging to it.

Beetlejuice turned his head and noticed she was there. "Hi, Lyds," he said. "Hey, have you ever watched Maury? I thought Neitherworld shows were scary!" Then he noticed her eyes on the container. "Oh, I found it in the back of the fridge. Trust me, no one else was gonna eat it."

"That's okay," she said. "Nobody would have minded, anyway." She walked over and handed him a paper with his appointment information on it. "Dr. Void has agreed to see you," she told him as he took the sheet and skimmed over it with disinterest. "He's taking a risk by doing this, since he's really obligated by law to turn you in, but he's willing to make an exception and come see you because he considers you an interesting patient. So, I got you an appointment for the day after tomorrow."

"And I got you a date for tonight," the ghost said, tossing the paper aside and ignoring most of what she'd said.

"What?" Lydia hadn't expected that response.

He pulled the concert ticket out of his pocket and extended his arm over his head so he could wave it in front of her face. "Your mould prince was here," he explained. "Left this for ya. He's pickin' ya up at 7:00. No need to thank me."

She took the ticket into her hands and stared at it, her dark eyes wide. "The Iron Hellcat concert? Tonight? Front row?!"

Beetlejuice nearly jumped out of his skin as she suddenly let out a sharp whoop and danced around the room. As he took in her obvious joy, he knew he'd done the right thing for his best friend. This opportunity easily could've slipped through her fingers if he hadn't bothered to answer that door. When she took a great, athletic leap and landed on the couch beside him, the shock sent him tumbling to the floor with a yelp.

"This is gonna be the greatest!" she cried from where she remained bouncing up and down on the cushions.

The ghost began picking himself up, only getting to his hands and knees before he felt her arms lock around his neck from behind. She yanked his head up and squeezed him tight to her chest in an embrace that would've strangled him to death if he hadn't already been dead.

"Oh, Beetlejuice, you have no idea how much I've wanted to see this band!" she went on excitedly, not relaxing her chokehold. "I wonder if they'll play 'Scratch Your Eyes Out'!"

His voice was a squeaky croak. "I'm sure I don't... know, babes... But right now... you're playin'... Bug My Eyes Out!" With those heavily strained words, his eyeballs popped out of their sockets and became a pair of beetles that skittered across the floor.

Lydia let him go and he gasped for breath as he fumbled sightlessly for the escaping bugs. Fortunately, he laid hands on them quickly and changed them back into his eyes.

His friend was oblivious. "Sean really got these at the last minute," she was babbling on, her own eyes fixed on her ticket. "Did he say how?"

"I dunno... Stole 'em off a 90-year-old nun?" BJ quipped, popping his eyeballs back into place just in time to see Lydia shoot him a dirty look. "I'm kiddin'," he said. "The little nerd said he got 'em off a friend that had 'em and couldn't go for some stupid reason."

The girl smiled. "Lucky you were here, Beej," she said with a relieved sigh. "I might have missed this chance if you hadn't been. Sean wouldn't have taken anyone else in my place, but he probably would've given both tickets away before I even found out he had them. Thanks for letting him know I'd wanna go."

She waited until he was standing again and gave him a proper hug. Beetlejuice mentioned nothing about pretending to be her at the door.

"Yeah, yeah... no problem, Lyds," he said dismissively, trying to ignore the warm fuzzies that tickled his innards. He really was beginning to hate having feelings. They made him do so many dumb things. "Speakin' of which," he added, noticing the time, "ya better go get ready. The Mouldmobile will be here to pick ya up in only a couple hours, so..."

"Ohmygosh, you're right!" Lydia exclaimed, pulling away from him to dash upstairs. "What am I gonna wear?!" she cried, just before BJ heard the bedroom door slam.

"Hopefully, clothes," he said to the air.

Sean arrived as scheduled. Beetlejuice watched through the window as Lydia ran out to meet him and threw herself into the car beside the boy. They wrapped their arms around each other and appeared to exchange some excited words. Then the car turned around and began disappearing down the drive. The ghost groaned as he watched them leave, feeling alone and out of place in the empty Deetz house.

"I'm such a sucker," he said to himself. His magic automatically changed him into a lollipop, adding insult to injury.

He floated back to the couch and stretched out upon it, preparing for a long night of boredom. His entire being was just a mass of conflicting emotions and he found it hard to focus on anything on television. Part of him was truly pleased for having contributed to making Lydia so happy, yet another part was still festering with deep-seated resentment. Hypothetical situations drifted through his head, and he started imagining how funny it would have been to see the look on Mouldy's face if he'd popped the kid's tires before he left the driveway. A moment later, Lydia's disappointed face flashed into his mind and shattered any joy he'd found in the previous image. This was a miserable up and down situation. It was like riding the Roller Toaster without the fun of being burned to a crisp. Or the barf.

Without warning, Beetlejuice was wrenched from his thoughts when a black shape suddenly landed on top of him. He screamed and immediately felt like an idiot when he realized it was only Lydia's cat, Percy.

"Hey! Scram, will ya?" he said to the black feline that stood impertinently on his belly.

When Percy didn't budge, he shoved him down with an indignant harrumph and turned his attention back to the television. Seconds later, the cat was back, staring down at BJ with his big, penetrating eyes.

"I said beat it, furball!" the dead man growled, shoving the cat down a second time with slightly more force. "This ain't no Fred Penner show, ya know!"

Just as quickly as before, Percy was on top of him again. This time, when the ghost went to remove him, the cat dug his claws into the fabric of Beetlejuice's clothes and held on. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Who do you think you-" BJ started, but he was cut short when Percy rubbed his sleek, black head against him with a purr.

Beetlejuice's objections died in his throat and he felt his arms go slack all on their own. For some reason unknown to himself, he stopped trying to push the cat away.

Percy continued purring and began kneading the ghoul's tummy with soft, gentle paws. The perceptive pet could sense the tension leaving the body beneath him as he worked his feline magic, and he turned in circles a couple of times before curling up into a warm, furry ball. BJ looked at him with a horrible expression, but he took no further action to remove him. The cat purred contentedly and closed his amber eyes, perfectly comfortable and settled-in for the night in his chosen spot.

Beetlejuice swallowed, his own eyes darting back and forth, double checking that he was alone. This was highly inappropriate for a spook of his stature. He should be frightening this dumb animal; not serving as its cozy, albeit rather stinky, bed. In the past, he had succeeded in scaring this same critter many times. Either he was losing his natural scare-appeal or the old flea bag had mellowed with age.

Finally, he sighed. "Just don't tell anyone about this," he told the comfy kitty. "I have a reputation to keep. Know what I mean?" He'd never admit it, but part of him was actually grateful for the company.

Percy just kept right on purring, and neither of them moved for the rest of the evening. Beetlejuice definitely hated having feelings.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

The sound of the door opening eventually woke Beetlejuice from a nap he hadn't realized he'd taken. He came awake with a jolt, and Percy jumped down from on top of him and ran off into the darkness. In the light from the television, BJ had only a moment to curse himself for not remembering to lock the door before the house lights came on, revealing Mould-boy and a sick looking Lydia leaning on him for support.

"Mr. Beetleman?" Sean was surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh... I, uh," the ghost struggled to come up with a lie, but his sleepy brain wasn't functioning all that well yet.

Lydia saved him the trouble. "Mr. Beetleman is keeping house," she said, her voice weak, "while my parents are visiting my aunt and uncle for a few days."

"Yeah," BJ agreed, relieved. He levered himself off the couch and came to stand next to them, his hands in his pockets. "But what's wrong with Lydia?" he asked, looking concerned as he took in her even paler than usual appearance.

"We bought some food from a vendor outside the concert venue," Sean explained. "In hindsight, it was a bad idea. Lydia started getting sick halfway through the show." He looked at his girlfriend sympathetically. "Food poisoning, I guess. Next time, we'll definitely eat before we go or we just won't eat at all."

"Ugh, don't even mention eating," Lydia moaned, covering her mouth and leaning heavily against him. "I never wanna think about food again." She made a slight burping sound and her stomach gurgled loudly. Suddenly, her eyes got big. "Oh, no..."

Sean and Beetlejuice watched, dumbstruck, as she tore away and made a mad dash for the bathroom, her weak legs making her fall against the walls along the way. They heard her retch, and both winced. BJ resisted the urge to hold up a sign with '10' on it. He could tell she was doing some serious power puking, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't impressed.

Nonchalantly, he turned his attention to Sean. "So, uh, you're obviously okay, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," the kid replied. "Lydia had a donair. I only had fries."

"Too bad," the ghost mumbled.

"What?"

"Oh, nothin'."

There were a few moments of awkward silence between them until they heard the toilet flush and Lydia came stumbling back, her porcelain-like complexion now reduced to a horrid shade of greenish grey. Rather than going to Sean, Beetlejuice was surprised when she came to him instead and fell limply against him like a wet noodle.

"I need to lie down," she groaned. "Beetlejuice, help me up to my room, please."

"Beetle what?" Sean asked, catching her use of the strange name.

"Uh... she ain't thinkin' straight," BJ said, which was partly true. "I'll look after her. You better go home, kid. Your folks are probably waitin' up for ya."

Sean glanced at his watch. "Yeah, they are," he admitted, getting a bit anxious as he realized how late it was. "But I'm really worried about Lydia."

"I told ya, I'll take care of her," Beetlejuice insisted, making an effort to keep the growl out of his voice as he tried not to show how eager he was to get rid of the kid. "Now, go on, before ya turn into a pumpkin or a rotten artichoke or somethin'." Oh, how he'd love to actually make that happen. "Come back tomorrow if ya want."

The boy hesitated a second longer, then reluctantly agreed. He said his goodbyes and exited the house, casting one last worried glance at his girlfriend as he closed the door.

Beetlejuice didn't waste time with the stairs now that they were alone; he used his powers to pop them into Lydia's bedroom in an instant, making the light come on in the room simultaneously. Arms wrapped around his best friend, he magically made the covers of her bed peel themselves back so he could settle her on the bottom sheet.

"Beej, wait," she protested weakly as he began to tuck her in. "I can't rest like this. I wanna get changed. Help me up."

"Why bother?" the clever spectre asked, pointing his finger at her and instantly making her favourite jammies appear on her body in a poof.

Lydia smiled, already feeling more comfortable. "Thanks," she sighed, relaxing into the softness of the bed. She was totally wiped out.

"Hey, you know me..." BJ grinned, lazily using more magic to finish bringing the blankets up over her. "Always willin' to help."

The girl managed to laugh at that. "Yeah, right," she giggled, gazing at him with glassy eyes. "Always willing to help cause trouble, you mean."

"You know me so well, babes," he snickered.

She started to say something else when they both heard her belly burble. Lydia paused for a second and her already ill expression got a few degrees sicker. She made a noise in her throat and brought a hand to her mouth.

"Uh oh," said Beetlejuice, anticipating what was coming.

A bucket appeared in front of her in the nick of time as she involuntarily heaved and lost the remains of what was in her stomach. Just as quickly, the bucket vanished and Lydia fell back against her pillow, shaking from sickness and fatigue.

"Ugh," she moaned, a sheen of sweat now forming on her forehead. "Never again."

"Don't tell me you're never goin' to another concert again," the ghost said.

"No, not that," she murmured, waving a hand weakly in his direction. "The concert was amazing. Best ever. Doesn't matter that I got sick. I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. Just no more vendor donairs for me... blehck..." She gagged again just thinking about it.

"Hey, I know exactly what ya mean, babes," her friend agreed, feeling a gross story coming on. "That's like this one time I went to see a live slime-diving event and I ordered this beetle burrito, right? Well, the phlegm-fried beetles and aphid sauce were great, I gotta tell ya. But it was just a little too heavy on the toe cheese, and I-"

"Beetlejuice, please!" Lydia's stomach was churning at his every word.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Heh... sorry... Boy, do I feel sheepish." He turned into a big, fat, woolly sheep and blushed.

Meanwhile, Lydia was squinting as the light suddenly seemed to be hurting her eyes. "Can you dim the lights, please? I'm actually starting to get a headache now, too."

"Sure thing, babes."

He changed back into himself and did as she asked. The room became lit as if by a single candle instead of the invasive brightness from the 100 watt bulb.

"Thanks," she breathed. "You're the best."

"I know," he said smugly, licking his hand and slicking back his hair. "Ya don't hafta tell me."

Lydia laughed, only to end up groaning as another wave of nausea struck her. Her companion looked at her with concern apparent in his ghostly gaze.

"Lyds... do ya want me to maybe, ya know, get ya somethin' for your stomach?" Beetlejuice's considerate question amazed even her. "Or maybe an aspirin or somethin' for your head? That's what you living types take for a headache, right?"

Lydia smiled, warmed by his rare display of compassion. "Actually, I think I'll just try to sleep," she said. "But thank you, Beetlejuice. It means a lot that you're willing to help."

He nodded and began fussing with his tie, clearly embarrassed by his own thoughtfulness.

"You could do something else for me, though," she added. "If you don't mind, that is."

He looked at her expectantly, trying to maintain a hardened expression that didn't at all match how he was feeling inside.

"Stay with me?" she asked, sounding very much like a little girl again as she scooted over and made room for him on her bed.

The ghost blinked, a little surprised. "I can float, ya know," he said plainly.

Lydia gave him a weak smile, her fatigue showing. "I know, but I'd just feel better if I can actually feel someone next to me. When I was little, before I met you, sometimes Dad would sleep beside me when I was sick. I always felt better in the morning."

Beetlejuice considered this. Part of his mind was already looking for ways to get out of it. He automatically thought up a handful of excuses and was trying to decide which could best be used as a means of escape. However, he couldn't seem to ignore the fact that his heart had been reduced to mush and was adamantly urging him to give in. It also seemed to have complete control of his tongue, as it wouldn't allow any words to leave his mouth unless they were agreeable.

"You don't have to," Lydia said after some silence. "It's fine if you just stay in the room with me."

"No, it's okay, I don't mind," the offending organ forced him to respond, making him want to slap himself. He decided to have the useless thing removed someday.

Lydia looked happy and seemed more relaxed as he settled down on top of the covers beside her. She knew perfectly well that he would do things for her that he'd never even consider doing for anyone else. It was strange, but the real power she held over him was far more deeply rooted in their unique friendship than in her ability to chant his name three times.

"Thanks, Beej," she said to him with great sincerity.

"Don't mention it," he replied, lying on his back and staring straight up. "And this is another one of those times where I really mean DON'T. Preferably EVER."

The girl understood and tried not to laugh. Beetlejuice was such a phony sometimes.

They both jumped when a black shape suddenly appeared from nowhere and landed on BJ's belly.

"Percy!" Lydia was relieved to see it was only her beloved kitty.

Beetlejuice didn't look nearly as relieved to see him. "Not you again!" he growled.

"Again?" Lydia asked, sounding intrigued despite her illness. "Have you two been spending a little quality time together?"

"Not by MY invitation," the ghost griped.

Percy walked up the dead man's torso and butted his head under BJ's chin, purring loudly. Lydia reached over and ran her hand along the cat's back, relishing the sleekness of his black fur.

"Awww, do you like Beetlejuice, Percy?" she asked, sleepiness evident in her voice. "And after all the times he's scared you."

"Yeah, pretty stupid cat, huh?" her friend muttered as Percy rubbed against his cheek.

"No, he's not stupid," the girl said wearily as she continued to stroke the cat's fur. "I think it proves how smart he is. He knows who he can trust, and he knows who really likes him."

The spook snorted beside her. "I think that dastardly donair is affectin' more than your stomach, babes. I like this mangy, old flea buffet about as much as redecoratin' the back end of a rhinoceros."

Lydia rolled over with a snort of her own. "Oh, Beetlejuice... you're such a liar."

"Heh, heh... Thanks," he grinned. It took him a few seconds to clue in. "Hey, wait... That wasn't a compliment. You meant..." But he stopped short when he realized she was already asleep.

With a sigh, he looked at the cat that was now curled up comfortably on his chest. Just for the heck of it, he changed his head into that of a werewolf in an attempt to frighten the feline. But Percy never even flinched. He just looked at the big, hairy, snarling face through half-lidded eyes and kept his purr as steady as ever. Beetlejuice changed back to normal and frowned.

"You're killin' me, kitty cat," he said. "Again."

His eyes flicked over to Lydia, who still remained facing the other way and breathing evenly in sleep. Confident that she wouldn't see, he brought a hand up and ran it gingerly over the cat's back, eliciting an even stronger purr.

"Good thing I like bein' dead," he added. "Pfft."


	18. Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Sean Molson returned to the Deetz house fairly early the next morning. Having hardly managed to sleep through the night, he was anxious to check on Lydia's condition and had even been thoughtful enough to pick up some flowers for her on the way. He prayed she was feeling better and that she wouldn't take the experience as a reason to stop attending shows with him. Aside from her illness, the rest of the night had been amazing.

As he approached the door, the young man ran a hand nervously through his hair. He'd been here many, many times, yet he still got butterflies in his stomach each and every visit. He rang the bell and waited patiently. When no one came to the door, he tried again. The second attempt was just as fruitless, and he wondered where Mr. Beetleman could be. He hoped he hadn't left Lydia all alone in the house while she was sick. Daring to test the doorknob, he discovered that it turned easily, having been left unlocked. He hesitated a moment, unsure if he was doing right or wrong, then took a chance and let himself in.

"Hello?" he called out, seeing no one around. "It's me. Sean."

No one answered, but the sound of heavy snoring reached his ears, coming from somewhere upstairs. Could Lydia really be snoring like that? Sean decided she must be REALLY sick. He figured he'd better go check on her, even if it meant leaving the flowers on her nightstand and not disturbing the girl's rest.

As he climbed the stairs, Percy was coming down to meet him, tail held high in the air in greeting. Sean reached down and gave the cat's head a rub as he passed.

"Glad SOMEONE'S here to greet me," he told the animal, wondering where Mr. Beetleman would have gone.

The boy was about to find out. When he reached the open door to Lydia's bedroom and discovered the actual source of the thunderous snore, his jaw nearly hit the floor. He stared in disbelief at the sight of the Deetz's supposed caretaker sleeping next to his girlfriend on her bed, breathing about as quietly as a fast-moving freight train. How Lydia wasn't awakened by the dreadful noise that rattled through Beetleman's nose and throat, Sean didn't know; but a feeling of utter horror and disgust washed over him as the gravity of this unexpected and highly inappropriate scene hit home. What had this terrible man done to her?!

"YOU SICKO!" he bellowed, dropping the flowers without care and charging towards the perceived offender like a knight into battle.

Beetlejuice snapped awake with an incredible start, his eyes huge like a pair of bloodshot grapefruit as he sat straight up at once. Before he had time to register what was even going on, something struck him in the face with such brutal force that it sent him right back down again in an explosion of stars.

"YOU SICK, DISGUSTING, FREAK!"

BJ's head was reeling. Who could be giving him all the compliments? He felt something grab hold of the front of his suit, and he was hauled from the bed and thrown to the floor. A weight pressed down on him and a pair of strong hands closed around his throat. Now he was seeing purple spots along with the stars as someone was obviously trying to throttle the life out of him. Boy, were they going to be disappointed.

"NO! STOP!"

That was Lydia's voice. Was she okay? Through the fog of his confusion, it occurred to Beetlejuice that someone must have broken into the house. Well, they weren't about to get away with it as long as 'the ghost with the most' was around. In a flash, he turned himself into an electric eel and sent a shock through his attacker.

Sean let out a yell and flew backwards, both from the electricity and from the mental shock of seeing a human being become a giant eel before his very eyes. He landed hard on the floor, twitching from the effects of the current that still rippled through his body, and watched in amazement as the eel returned to the form of Mr. Beetleman. The man was on his feet and didn't appear any worse for wear, in spite of the blow Sean had dealt him. The entire situation just seemed impossible.

Beetlejuice, meanwhile, blinked in surprise when he learned the identity of the assailant. He could hardly believe he'd just been assaulted by mild mannered Mould-boy. It was an insult to his pride to think that this weenie had succeeded in startling him from his sleep, clobbering him in the face, throwing him out of bed, and then topped it off by trying to strangle him. Who did the little twerp think he was?

"So, ya think you're tough or somethin', huh?" he snarled at the kid, raising his hands menacingly and powering-up to unleash chaos. "I'll show YOU, ya little-"

"BEETLEJUICE, DON'T!"

Lydia's cry of protest made him stop in mid threat. She always had impeccable timing when it came to interrupting his thoughtless outbursts. It so often spoiled his fun.

Sean, however, saw an opportunity, and in an incredibly brave move after what had just happened, he launched himself forward and rammed into the distracted Mr. Beetleman's stomach. The force knocked the wind out of his opponent and they both crashed down in a clumsy heap. The boy fought to be the first to get up and gain the upper hand, and he pushed against the man's chest in an effort to keep him down while propelling himself upwards. He got nowhere, though, as something was somehow holding him in place. He looked down and his eyes widened when he noticed a soft, silky substance with the strength of steel wrapped around his arms and legs. His heart stuttered as he quickly recognized it as massive strands of spider web.

Beetleman grinned up at him. "Ya know, I heard ya like spiders..." he growled through the sinister smile. "How do ya like this?"

The situation changed so swiftly from there, Sean had no time to even blink. By what could only be magic, he was suddenly the one in the inferior position, his entire body wrapped in webbing with the exception of his head, and he was looking up at an absolutely nightmarish gargantuan spider. The creature had to be the size of a grizzly bear, and the boy couldn't suppress a scream as the arachnid towered over him with all its hairy, massive legs and one frightening pair of huge, glistening fangs. Eight shiny, black eyes glared at him with soulless hunger, and he could actually see the fangs twitch in anticipation of delivering a bite that would surely turn his insides to instant pudding.

"BEETLEJUICE, STOP IT! LET HIM GO!"

Again, it was Lydia's voice that cut through the drama and brought things to a grinding halt. The spider's aggressive posture seemed to sag and it reluctantly drew back. Sean felt like he was going mad as he watched it become Mr. Beetleman again, and the webbing that encased his body evaporated into thin air. He was either dreaming or something truly beyond the realms of the known and normal was actually occurring. It was something that both intrigued and terrified him at the same time.

"He started it, Lyds!" the strange man in the striped suit was saying. "I was asleep! Completely mindin' my own business! And he thinks he can just waltz in here and start somethin'?! No one shakes ME up, babes!"

The boy was in such shock, he nearly laughed in hysteria when Beetleman turned into a giant milkshake, complete with whipped cream and a cherry on top. It was the most bizarre thing he'd ever witnessed.

Lydia came to her boyfriend's side. "Are you okay?" she asked, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I... I don't know," he replied with uncertainty, his body trembling. "Lydia... WHAT is going on here? Have you been seeing what I'm seeing?!"

"After today, the only thing you're gonna be seein' is a psychiatrist," BJ muttered under his breath with a low chuckle.

Lydia heard and flashed him a look of reproach. "You're one to talk," she told him, "considering who's coming to see YOU tomorrow."

Beetlejuice's mouth snapped shut at that.

The girl turned back to Sean. "I did see," she said. "You're not going crazy if that's what you think. I have some explaining to do, but you have to promise me you'll never repeat to anyone what I'm about to tell you. It's a secret I've been keeping for years."

"Babes?!" the ghost's head swung around. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't seriously be thinkin' about tellin'," he gasped sharply, then gulped, "the TRUTH!" Just the word itself tasted bad in his mouth and he gagged.

"I have to," she said. "How else would you suggest we simply explain away what happened here? There's no other way this time." She looked into Sean's eyes. "And I trust you, Sean. I trust you to say nothing to anyone. Will you promise me?"

Her boyfriend looked back at her like a deer caught in headlights. "Yes," he said, and swallowed. "I promise."

Beetlejuice didn't know what to do with himself as he watched Lydia help Sean up from the floor. Inside, he was panicking. She was going to reveal their deepest secret to another living person for the first time, and he realized the idea terrified him. Some part of his mind was screaming at him to just disappear and escape back to the Neitherworld, but then he remembered what awaited him at home.

"Lydia!" he pleaded as she and Sean sat down on the bed. "Ya can't! Don't do this to me, babes!"

"It'll be okay, Beej," she assured him. "I trust Sean. And you have to trust me."

BJ's mind was racing. If she told this kid the truth and he blew the beans on them, it could ruin their friendship. People would think Lydia was insane. She could be locked up or something. He might never see her again. He pulled at his collar as sweat rolled down his face and neck. At the same time, a cold, prickly feeling was gnawing at his back. He began to hyperventilate, struggling for air that he really didn't need as a dead guy, but he couldn't prevent his body's reaction to the rising panic.

"Lyds..." he panted, his voice a breathless croak. "I don't... feel so..."

The sentence wasn't finished as his eyes suddenly rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a dead faint. He wasn't aware of it, but Lydia was at his side in an instant.

Sean looked on from his spot on the bed. "This is the absolute weirdest day of my life," he said, pressing a hand to his forehead as he tried to get his mind around everything.

"It's about to get weirder," Lydia told him as she knelt beside her friend. "This is all going to sound crazy, but I think you'll believe me after the things you've just seen."

"I don't think anything could shock me any further at this point," he half giggled with a hint of hysteria. "Hit me with your best shot, girl."

She paused and looked down at Beetlejuice for a moment, then turned back to Sean. "Come here," she said, beckoning with a slight jerk of her head.

Sean got up and approached slowly, almost afraid to get close to the man on the floor. Lydia could see he was nervous.

"It's okay," she said. "He's out. He can't hurt you." She tapped BJ's face to prove her point. "He wouldn't anyway."

"Are you sure you saw what went on?" the boy asked. "He was gonna kill me. Or that spider was... Or.. I don't even know..."

Lydia shook her head. "He wanted to scare you. That's what he does. It's who he is." She took a breath. "Sean..." it was so weird to be having this conversation after all the years of giving phony explanations, "Mr. Beetleman isn't a normal human like you and I..."

Sean looked at her, no emotional response evident after that initial statement.

"And his name isn't 'Beetleman'," she continued. "It's 'Beetlejuice'."

The young man's eyes lit up in recognition. "Then, that IS what I heard you call him," he said, sounding pretty calm so far.

"That's right," she confirmed with a nod. "Beetlejuice isn't just a family friend, either. He's my very best friend in the whole world, Sean. He has been since I was about eleven. And he's..." she paused again, Sean's blue gaze fixed upon her in anticipation, "a ghost."

There was dead silence between them for several seconds. Lydia hoped that meant her boyfriend was digesting this new information.

Finally, Sean spoke. "But he's solid," he said.

"Most of the time, yes," she agreed. "Being a ghost doesn't necessarily mean you have no substance. It's not as simple as people think."

"But he breathes," Sean went on. "And I've seen him eat... and sleep now, too. And he snores. LOUD."

"Like I said, it's not as simple as one would imagine," she told him. "Here, I want you to feel something." She lifted BJ's wrist and presented it to him. "Feel for a pulse," she instructed.

Hesitantly, the boy took the unconscious man's wrist, still apprehensive about touching him. Lydia was actually grateful Beetlejuice wasn't conscious; it made him a lot less threatening and far more compliant with this little examination. She watched as Sean pressed two fingers to one spot, then another, and another.

"I can't find one," he admitted.

"That's because he doesn't have one," Lydia said. "He's dead."

Sean dropped Beetlejuice's wrist like a hot potato, suddenly feeling very weird about touching a corpse.

"It's alright," she told him gently. "He's dead in the conventional sense, but he's still a living entity. There's a lot I can't explain to you because I don't even understand it myself. I'm not even sure Beetlejuice understands most of it. He comes from a place called The Neitherworld. It's like another dimension. Nothing is as it seems, there. It's a world of spooks and horrors, where the dead are alive and monsters are real. But it's a fascinating, wonderful place. I go there all the time... or I used to," she finished with a note of regret.

The young man was no longer looking at her as she spoke, but rather continued staring at the still figure on the floor. He didn't appear frightened or freaked out at this point; just a bit confused.

"I realize this is a lot to take in," she said to him, "but I think you know I'm being completely serious. You're the first person I've ever told the truth to about Beetlejuice and I. If my parents had ever found out, they'd have banned me from ever seeing him again. We invented 'Mr. Beetleman' as a way to spend time together in their presence."

Sean's eyes never left the dead man. He was silent for a few moments before finally asking, "Why was he in bed with you?"

"What?... Oh," Lydia blushed at the unspoken implication. "I asked him to stay beside me last night. I was just feeling so sick and didn't want to be alone. It was no different than when my father used to stay with me when I got sick as a little kid. Purely platonic, I can promise you that. I'm sure you noticed he even slept on top of the covers."

"Yeah," said Sean. "I actually did notice that. I just kinda freaked out, though. I thought he was some kind of pervert and that he'd taken advantage of you or something."

The notion almost made Lydia laugh. "Not at all, I swear," she stated sincerely. "Beetlejuice is a lot of things, but he'd never do something like that. He'd hate to hear me say this, but he has a good heart and he's far more noble than he lets on. He's been the greatest friend I could ever want. We've been through everything together."

She looked down at her special ghoul. Saying it all out loud really made her realize just how extraordinary he truly was, and part of her wished he'd been able to hear her words of praise, even if he'd never admit to appreciating them.

"I believe you," Sean spoke. "I don't know him, and I don't know that I'd trust him, but I do trust you and I trust your opinion of him."

She smiled. "I'm glad to hear you say that," she said, leaning over to wrap her arms around him.

Her boyfriend hugged her back and they shared a gentle kiss.

This was just about the time that Beetlejuice was regaining consciousness. Unfortunately, for him, the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was his best friend lip-locked with the Mould-kid.

"Oh, no..." he groaned. "Somebody, knock me out again so I don't hafta see this."

The teen couple pulled away from one another, both blushing in embarrassment.

"BJ, are you okay?" Lydia asked, trying to divert attention back to him. "How do you feel?"

He allowed her to help him sit up. "Like a sack of soggy sweat-socks, babes," he replied, immediately changing into the literal form. "But only half as smelly."

Lydia held her nose. "Uh... you really ought to give yourself more credit than that, Beetlejuice."

"Aw, thanks," he said, returning to normal.

"That is just the freakiest thing," Sean murmured in wonder. "How do you do that?"

The ghost looked to Lydia with an expression that wordlessly asked for guidance.

"He knows," she told him. "I explained who and what you really are. He's okay with it. Right, Sean?"

"Yeah," said Sean, sounding a bit mesmerized, "I'm okay with it. I'm having a hard time getting my head around it, but I'm okay with it. You have some incredible abilities, Mr. Beetlejuice. Can all ghosts do that stuff?"

"No, most of them aren't nearly as talented," Lydia said with a hint of pride. "Beetlejuice is special. He can change into anything he wants and do all kinds of things. He's the ghost with the most."

She caught the gleam of satisfaction in her friend's yellow eyes as she placated his ego. She knew he was more likely to be amiable if he was feeling confident and in control of the situation.

"Heh, heh... Yeah!" he said proudly, recognizing an opportunity to show off. "I can do stuff like this..."

Sean's face became a picture of disbelief combined with excitement as he suddenly felt his body leave the floor. All three of them had begun to levitate, rising up, up, up, until they nearly reached the ceiling.

"Whoa!" the boy cried. "This is amazing! Lydia, we're floating!"

Lydia giggled and BJ cackled like a lunatic. It was old-hat to them, but sharing this simple trick with someone new was surprisingly revitalizing. Sean's genuine awe and wonder brought a fresh sense of fun to it all again. It was like amusing a small child with peek-a-boo and being hooked by the contagious, innocent laughter.

"Hey, you ain't seen nothin' yet, Mouldy!" Beetlejuice exclaimed, happy to impress. "Check this out!"

The kid's mouth went agape as BJ turned himself into a green and purple striped dragon and made the glass doors to the balcony fly open in one swift burst of magic. Then Sean and Lydia each gasped as he dove beneath them, allowing the two teens to take sitting positions on his back. Both kids naturally held tight to the scaly body as he wasted no time in sweeping them out into the great outdoors.

He took them in a loop around the house a few times, then soared higher and began heading over the trees. Encouraged by their sounds of joy and laughter, he performed some swoops and dives to give them a more thrilling ride.

"Beetlejuice, my stomach!" Lydia warned, feeling sick again. "I'm not ready for this yet!"

"Oh, yeah," said the dragon, having forgotten. "Sorry, babes."

He carried them down and landed safely in a peaceful, little grove where the sunlight streamed through the great pines. The place had an ethereal quality, which was quite appropriate, given the fantastical circumstances. The teen couple slid off his leathery back and he returned to his natural form.

Sean was beaming. "I never imagined I'd already be experiencing anything that would top the concert last night," he said, "but this is the most incredible thing EVER! Lydia, HOW have you kept quiet about this for so long?!"

"It's been difficult at times," she admitted with a smile as she looked over at her supernatural friend. "Beetlejuice isn't the easiest secret to keep. I've had to concoct a lot of stories to cover up his antics."

The ghost grinned and a halo appeared over his head as he tried to look innocent.

"What sort of antics?" Sean asked, honestly curious.

Lydia got an idea and spoke to the ghost. "Beej, if you could put me in some more appropriate clothes," she said, gesturing at the jammies she was wearing, "we could all take a walk and tell Sean about some of our adventures... and your pranks."

Beetlejuice was pleased to oblige for a chance to brag about his pranks. "You got it, Lyds," he said, zapping the pajamas so they became a tee-shirt and shorts.

She looked down at herself. "Um... I don't mean to walk all over you or anything," she said with humour, "but I could use something on my feet, too."

BJ rolled his eyes and spoke sideways to Sean, "Women... Pfft!"

He pointed a finger at her feet and a pair of comfortable sandals appeared on them. Then he blew across his fingertip as if blowing smoke off the end of an old pistol.

"Thanks," Lydia said, smiling.

"That is just the coolest thing," said Sean in utter amazement. "Could you... maybe... give me a hat?"

"A hat?" the ghost repeated, a bored expression on his face. "Sure, kid."

He snapped his fingers and a dunce cap appeared on Sean's head.

"Beetlejuice," Lydia said his name with the tone of a mother about to scold a misbehaving child, "that's not very nice."

Sean took the cap off and saw what it was, then he laughed. "No, it's okay," he said. "He owes me that much for layin' a beat-down on him."

"Hey, don't get cocky, Mould-meister," BJ warned, turning into a big, threatening rooster.

Sean chuckled and shook his head in disbelief. "Man, I just can't get over how cool that is."

"Enjoy it, kid," said the rooster just before it changed back into Beetlejuice. "I coulda went a far less appealing direction with that one."

"By the way," Sean's tone suddenly became more serious, "I want to apologize for what happened, Mr. Beetlema- uh, Beetlejuice. I didn't understand your relationship with Lydia until she explained it to me. When I walked in and saw you there, I just thought you were some kind of sicko."

"One can dream," the ghoul said with a goofy grin, resting his cheek against one hand and turning his eyes to the heavens as if engaged in some fantasy.

Lydia punched him in the arm. "He means he thought you were a pervert," she told him.

BJ wrinkled his nose. "Nah," he said. "Even I'm not THAT gross."

"I know that, now," said Sean. "Lydia thinks very highly of you. And if you're a friend of hers, then I'd like to consider you a friend of mine."

The boy offered Beetlejuice his hand and the ghost looked at it like something about to jump up and bite him. Besides Lydia, this was the first living human that knew the truth about him, and it was strange to be presented with a new opportunity for friendship. Most of the Neitherworld inhabitants didn't even like him, but this kid was willing to take him at face value and accept him for who he was. He hated to admit it to himself, but Lydia had really found herself a good young man.

After another moment's hesitation, he took the offered hand and shook it. "Sure, Mouldy," he said.

Lydia put an arm around each of them. "Let's go for that walk," she suggested. "Then we can come home and find out if my stomach is up to having breakfast."

Beetlejuice's tongue shot out like a frog's and snagged a passing fly. "I know MINE is," he announced after an audible gulp.

Sean stared at him with an ill expression.

Lydia looked apologetic. "Um... I, uh, guess we forgot to mention that he eats bugs," she told her boyfriend.

"It's okay," he said, his expression unchanging. "I know now."

They started walking on a small trail that led out of the grove. Beetlejuice let out a massive belch so loud that a flock of birds broke from the treetops and flew in all directions.

Sean shook his head. "This really is the weirdest day of my life."


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

"You were great with Sean today," Lydia praised Beetlejuice that night as she leaned on her balcony rails, taking in the comparatively cool air after the warm summer day. "I'm really proud of you, Beej. And I wanna thank you for being friendly to him and showing him a good time."

BJ hovered lazily in the air beside her, laying back with one leg crossed over the other and his arms folded behind his head. "Yeah, well... don't be thinkin' I LIKE the little nerdinator or somethin'," he said in his usual aloof manner. "I just did it for kicks." A boot appeared beneath him and swung full-force into his rump. "EEE-OUCH!"

She pressed her fingers to her lips, trying not to laugh. "Well, he really likes you, ya know. He thinks you're something else. You've made quite an impression on him."

"I made quite an impression on myself," he said, looking back at the boot-print that now marked his butt.

Lydia did laugh at that. "I've never known you to not have an impact on anyone that's ever met you," she said. "Not always a positive one, of course..."

"Pfft! Almost NEVER a positive one," he snorted and snickered. "Just ask... anyone!"

"Ah, well," she shrugged. "Most people don't bother to really get to know you. You're special, BJ. You always have been."

The ghost was oddly quiet after that. Usually, he was quick to hop on the brag-wagon, but this time he didn't. Lydia could see something was troubling him, but she was reluctant to ask.

"I know it isn't under the best circumstances," she went on, "but I have to tell you... I'm really enjoying getting to spend time with you again."

She caught the raise of an eyebrow in the moonlight. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah. It was nice to have the three of us together today... and it's nice when it's just you and me, like now. Feels like old times."

"Yeah, it does." he agreed.

They lapsed into silence. The hum of nocturnal insects filled the gap, permeating the stillness with their ancient, natural melodies. The night was alive and beautiful.

"Beetlejuice?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you worried about tomorrow?"

He didn't answer right away. Then, finally, "Maybe. Sorta."

"I'll help you any way I can, you know," she tried to reassure him.

"Yeah," he said. "I know, babes."

Another silence befell them. The bugs sang on.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Lydia eventually dared to ask.

"What for? Talkin' is supposed to be what tomorrow's about anyway, right?"

"Yes," she conceded, "but I'm your friend; not your doctor. I don't listen because I'm paid for it or because I'm interested in your case. I listen because I care about you."

She allowed him some time to think that over. The moon glowed down on them, accentuating each of their pale flesh tones. Lydia looked at her hands upon the railing and was reminded of all the times she'd been told she needed more iron in her diet.

"I dunno, babes," BJ spoke at last. "I guess I'm just thinkin' about what happens next, know what I mean? Like, what's gonna happen to me after this? What if they do decide to feed me to the sandworms? Or what if they lock me up for eternity?" He paused, and a note of sadness crept into his next words. "What if I never see you again?"

"We won't let that happen," his friend said resolutely. "We'll fight them with everything we've got." She observed his less-than-convinced expression. "And if nothing else works," she added, "we'll just have to keep you in my world."

The ghoul's yellow eyes blinked at that. "Lyds... I'm all for crazy ideas and breakin' the rules and stuff, but ya know that'll never work out."

"Why not?" she asked. "You know how to blend in. You've had plenty of practice as Mr. Beetleman and Betty and others."

He floated down to let his feet touch the balcony and leaned on the rail next to her. "Well, yeah... for short periods of time. It's not the same as livin' here, though. And livin' is even harder when you're dead. Where would I go? What would I do?"

"You'd stay with me," she said as if it were the most obvious thing ever.

He looked at her. She meant it, he could tell. Her face was set in an expression that was a strange blend of sincerity and stubbornness. He'd have been lying if he'd said that the idea didn't make his heart do jumping-jacks for joy. There was no one in existence that he'd rather live with than Lydia... or be dead with, in his case. But then his brain kicked in and he started thinking about what this would mean for her. And the more he thought about it, the more he realized she was thinking with her own heart instead of her head. She had her future to take into consideration, and right now she wasn't foreseeing the burden even he, himself, knew he would be upon her. Had she somehow forgotten what a pain in the neck he was, even at a distance? Had the pranks, filth and bad behaviour slipped her mind? Didn't she realize his constant presence would ruin her plans and dreams? If it had been anyone else, he wouldn't care - he'd even enjoy having the chance to mess up someone else's stupid life - but this was Lydia. Not only could this idea wreck her future, but she could grow to resent him for it. Would they even remain friends in that case? If not, it would have all been in vain.

"Unless you don't WANT to stay with me," her words pulled him from his silent contemplation. She sounded slightly hurt.

"Aw, c'mon now, babes... it ain't like that," he told her gently.

"Then what's the matter?" she wanted to know.

He looked away and gazed up at the stars, trying to find the right words. "Well... I just think it's kinda... too much for you to give... Know what I mean?"

"Not really, no," she said flatly.

Beetlejuice sighed and faced her again. "Lydia..." he spoke her name softly and seriously, preparing for a lot of things he really didn't want to say.

She looked at him expectantly, her dark eyes reflecting the light of the moon as she seemed to be trying to see right through him and into his mind. It only made him more nervous.

"I know ya wanna help and all..." he began hesitantly, "but you're really not thinkin'... This is ME we're talkin' about here. Ya gotta think about what you'd be lettin' yourself in for. You've got your own life to live, ya know? And livin' with me on a permanent basis would mess it all up for ya... You know me better than anyone in this world, or The Neitherworld, or anywhere else. Ya KNOW I can't resist pullin' pranks and gettin' into trouble all the time. I just can't help myself. And I'm about as housebroken as a hundred pound sewer rat with an incontinence problem. If I stayed with you, your whole life would revolve around me and my bad habits. And what about your other plans and stuff? Ya don't want this to happen, babes. Trust me. Ya want a better life than that. Think about your future."

Lydia couldn't believe she was hearing this from Beetlejuice of all people. He was hardly one to be telling her to think about anything, given his past record for doing stupid things and only thinking about the consequences afterwards. To hear this from him was both surprising and irritating, yet his apparent concern for her well-being warmed her at the same time. She had no idea it was breaking his heart to say it.

"Since when did you become my father?" she asked with a slight edge to her voice. "And how would YOU know what I do or don't want out of life? Have you been reading my diary or something?"

"Not recently," he was quick on that one. "Why? Is it gettin' good?"

She gave him a light smack on the arm. "Maybe I do want my life to revolve around you," she said. "Did you ever think of that?"

The ghost deeply wished that were true, but he knew better. He knew of the regret she would face one day when she realized she'd missed opportunities and made sacrifices in her life because of him.

"No, ya don't," he said. "Ya might think so now, but when you're old and grey and wrinklier than a prune, you'll be wonderin' why ya wasted your life on the dead."

"You're not 'THE DEAD'," Lydia repeated his choice of words in a mocking voice. "You're my best friend. I'd do anything for you, Beetlejuice."

"I'm touched, babes... really," he sounded sarcastic even though he meant it more sincerely than his friend could ever imagine. "But you'll change your mind someday. Believe me. I may be dead, but I know how life is supposed to work, and it doesn't involve dead guys. Ya grow up, ya get some kinda job, get married, buy a nice house with a picket fence and an annoying dog; ya do the Hokey Pokey and ya have yourself a cow. And that's what it's all about. Or somethin' to that effect."

The girl didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. "Oh, riiiight," she groaned, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Beetlejuice, that's the most narrow-minded view of life I've ever heard. And as if YOU know any more about my future than I do."

"I'm just tryin' to look out for ya," he said, crossing his own arms defensively. "Even if it means protectin' you from me. I'm tryin' to stop ya from sacrificin' a normal life for a dead guy."

This time she did laugh at him. "When have I ever cared about having a normal life?" she argued. "In fact, when have YOU ever considered 'normal' anything but completely disgusting?"

"Hey, we're not talkin' about what I think of it," said BJ, gesturing at himself. "Even though you're right. I do think it's disgusting. Heck, I get queasy just sayin' it. But that's not the point. The point is... well... Okay, maybe I don't understand life or how it works and all that scuzz. But let me ask ya somethin'... Do you love Mould-boy, babes?"

"Beetlejuice!" Lydia blushed at his question.

"Alright, alright," he waved off any further response, not only trying to spare her the embarrassment, but also not really wanting to hear the answer. "Do you at least know ya wanna get married someday? Not necessarily to Mouldy, but to someone?"

"Why? Are you asking me?" she teased, trying to break some of the tension.

"Lydia!" his voice cracked as he nearly choked on her name in shock.

"I'm kidding," she said, giving his shoulder a playful nudge. "Don't get your shorts in a twist."

"Hey, how'd ya know?" he asked, fidgeting uncomfortably and tugging at his pants.

Lydia giggled, grateful for the comic relief after what could have become a full-blown argument. "To answer your question," she began, "yes, I'd like to get married someday. I'd like to have children, too."

Beetlejuice held his hands up in front of him. "Whoa, let's not get ridiculous. My stomach can only handle so much of this kinda thing."

"Hey, I'M the one that had the bad donair," she reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah... Anyway," he continued, trying to get back on track, "my point was that it'd be really weird for ya... Y'know, I mean, livin' with your..." he paused and swallowed, trying not to gag, "h-h-husband..." he stuttered the horrible word, "and with me."

"I get what you're trying to say, Beej," she said, picturing the scene in her head. "But I'm not just going to allow my best friend to be eaten by sandworms or put away forever when I could save him, even if it means changing my plans for the future. I'd adjust, somehow. Besides, it might be nice having a live-in babysitter."

His jaw dropped and he gasped. "Lyds! You wouldn't!"

She smiled, pleased to have successfully razzed him for the second time. "No, I wouldn't. I'd never expect that of you. But I might ask you, occasionally." She winked at him.

"Oh, greaaat," he whined. "I only feel half as sick now."

"Aw, come on," his friend said. "You're good with kids. Remember Ramon?"

BJ did remember. He recalled the kid quite fondly. Lydia's young neighbour had probably been his biggest fan, next to Lydia herself.

"Yeah, sorta," he said, pretending his memory of the little boy was only vague. "I think I remember somethin' about him. The name rings a bell, anyway." With that, a huge bell appeared over his head and rang so loud that it made his teeth chatter. "WHOA!" he exclaimed, temporarily deafened to the point of hardly being able to hear his own voice. "DON'TCHA HATE IT WHEN THAT HAPPENS?" He shook his head rapidly from side to side, trying to get rid of the ringing in his ears. "WHAT WERE WE EVEN TALKIN' ABOUT AGAIN?"

Lydia's lips were moving, but the words weren't clear. She was saying something that looked and sounded like, "Wee woo donkey a pot a view chair."

"WHAT?!"

She thumped him on the head and his hearing went back to normal. "We were talking about the future," she repeated.

"Oh. Right," he said, feeling stupid.

"But I think we should call it a night, regardless," she continued. "It's late and we have to be up early for your appointment."

Beetlejuice shivered. "Don't remind me."

"You'll be okay," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "Dr. Void is going to help you."

"Yeah... help me into a straight-jacket, ya mean," he muttered, getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Relax," she told him. "It'll look better in the morning, anyway. Fears and worries always seem worse at night."

"If you say so, babes," he said, but he didn't sound at all convinced.

They went inside and Lydia began getting ready for bed. BJ hovered in the air and did the floating equivalent of pacing back and forth as she went to the bathroom and left him alone in her bedroom.

As he moved from one wall to the other, his mind awash with anxiety, he thought he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye, somewhere over by the dresser. Expecting to see Percy, he turned his head to look, but there was nothing but shadow. He inhaled a deep, shaky breath, disgusted by the fact that the stress was getting to him, and resumed his nervous activity; drifting back and forth with his hands in his pockets, shoulders semi-hunched and his chin tucked down so his gaze rested on the floor.

Lydia returned shortly, having changed into jammies and brushed her teeth. She was also carrying a blanket and pillow.

"I don't think you'll find it cold," she said, "but here's a blanket if you need it, and an extra pillow. The ones on the couch are okay, but they're kinda small."

He took the offered items and started heading out of the room. "Thanks, Lyds."

"You don't have to sleep down there if you don't want to," she said before he reached the door. "I know you weren't keen on the idea, but I don't mind sharing my bed with you again if you'd find it more comfortable than the couch."

"You're forgettin'," the ghost said, turning back to face her, "I can sleep on an AIR mattress if I want."

He demonstrated by levitating the pillow and stretching out in mid air with his head settled upon it, just the same as if he were lying in bed. Then he tossed the blanket up and let it fall down over his body.

Lydia smiled. "True enough," she said, "but doesn't that take effort to maintain while you're sleeping?"

"Naaahh," Beetlejuice drawled. "Not for the ghost with the most. Which I happen to be. Pfft!"

"In that case," she offered, "why don't you stay here, then? I'd appreciate the company."

BJ's eyebrows lifted. "Really?"

"Well, yeah," said his friend. "I only didn't suggest it first because I thought you'd be more comfortable with an actual surface to rest on."

"Surface-shmurface," he said. "I'll stay with you, babes."

"Good," said Lydia happily, crawling into bed.

Beetlejuice floated closer and selected a spot to stay anchored for the night. He watched Lydia get comfortable in her bed, only to let out a frustrated sigh when she realized she had to move again in order to turn out her bedside lamp. The ghost smirked to himself and pointed at the light before she could reach it, making it go out effortlessly.

"Show-off," she accused, but the smile was evident in her voice.

He yawned, just to rub it in. "You like it," he said.

Within a quarter of an hour, Lydia was asleep, made obvious to BJ by her soft snores. As for him, sleep wasn't coming quite so easy. He couldn't quit worrying about seeing the psychiatrist or stop thinking about all the possible horrors that might be in store for him when he would eventually have to return to The Neitherworld. With all the anxiety he was feeling, the darkness felt especially oppressive. He kept thinking he saw flickers of movement in the corners of the room. A couple of times, he could've even swore he heard whispers.

Frustrated with the tricks being played on him by his own troubled mind, he let out an exasperated huff and changed position to face the wall. He closed his eyes, drawing in several deep breaths in an attempt to relax.

Just when he felt some of the tension leave his body, there came a definite whisper directly in his ear...

"Beetlejuice..."

The ghost's eyes flew open and he whipped his head around to look over his shoulder. Lydia's bedroom was as dark and still as it had been moments before, details made visible only by moonlight that streamed through the windows. His best friend still slept peacefully, not having moved from when he'd last looked at her.

"I'm losin' it," he muttered quietly to himself, turning towards the wall once again.

He pulled the blanket Lydia had given him further up to his neck. It wasn't at all cold in the room, but chills had begun to ripple through his body. He hated himself for the fear he was experiencing. A ghost shouldn't be afraid of anything; especially 'the ghost with the most'. He stared at the wall, unable to close his eyes again right away.

After several minutes of no sound or movement, he started slowly relaxing. His eyelids became heavy and eventually began to close on their own.

"Beetlejuice..."

His name was hissed in his ear for the second time. Again, his eyes snapped open, but he didn't move otherwise. Through his fear, he tried to tell himself he was imagining it. He had to be hearing things, and the thought of hearing voices in his head made him feel crazy. Dr. Void was going to have a field day with him. But, as if to prove its existence, the breathy whisper came again, even clearer than the first two times.

"You ran away..."

Beetlejuice's mouth fell open and his throat felt constricted. As he stared straight ahead, a shadow seemed to break away from the surrounding darkness and moved freely up the wall in front of him. It crawled across the blank surface like some kind of formless reptile, and BJ felt his heart twist within his ribcage as he watched a vague figure take form... a figure with long, crooked fingers and two empty, almond-shaped spots in its head that looked like evil eyes. Looming there before him like a projected image on a movie screen, the shadow figure stretched out its willowy hands and reached for him.

"You're coming home..."

That did it.

"LYDIAAAAAAAA!"

He screamed for his friend at the top of his lungs. At the same time, his sheer terror made his magic freeze up and he dropped from the air like a stone. He landed painfully on the floor, most of his weight coming down on his left arm and shoulder. Gritting his teeth through the pain, he struggled frantically against the blanket, scrambling to get up and escape. It felt like his limbs were made of jelly, and he only ended up flopping around like a fish out of water, not getting anywhere. In his panic, he was only distantly aware of the light coming on and Lydia appearing at his side.

"Beetlejuice, calm down!" she commanded as he fought against her touch. "You're having a nightmare!"

"NO!" he cried. "IT'S REAL! IT'S..." his wild eyes flashed to the wall and he saw it illuminated by the light from the lamp; the space was blank and lifeless. "It's... gone," he finished, confusion replacing the panic in his voice.

He stared at the empty wall a second longer, then fell back heavily against the pillow on the floor, chest heaving as he sucked in gulps of air. Lydia looked down at him sympathetically, having had many terrifying nightmares of her own in her life. She took his hand and held it, trying to offer comfort.

"It's okay, BJ," she assured him. "It was just a dream. You're safe."

He shook his head back and forth against the pillow. "No, babes... ya don't understand," he said between gasps. "It was real... I wasn't even asleep yet!"

"I know it probably seemed like it," she said, trying to be reasonable, "but it's easy to fall asleep and not realize it. I've had it happen to me plenty of times."

"No..." he was adamant. "I was awake... It talked to me... then it tried to grab me!"

Lydia's brow furrowed. "What exactly did you see?" she asked.

"A shadow," he panted. "But... it was a MOVING shadow... It was ALIVE, babes... It had eyes... and hands... and it said my name... It said I ran away..." He put a hand to his forehead and rubbed at the sweat that had formed there. "It was gonna take me home... back to The Neitherworld!"

The girl listened carefully. If she had to be honest, it sounded like her friend was feeling guilty about running away from his problems, and this was how the guilt had manifested. Perhaps he felt more responsible for what had happened at home than either of them were aware. If he hadn't dreamt the experience, he was probably having hallucinations. This was something Dr. Void could go over with him, though. It would do no good to address it right here, right now.

"Gee, that's really creepy," she told him sincerely, mentioning nothing of her amateur analysis. "No wonder you're so scared. But you can see for yourself, Beej," she gestured at the wall, "there's nothing there now. There's no one here but you and I."

"I know what I saw, Lyds," he insisted, sitting up and glancing nervously around the room. "And heard." He bowed his head and covered his face with his hands, shaking like a leaf. "How the heck am I ever gonna sleep now?"

"Well..." Lydia began, thinking it over. "You slept beside me when I needed you. Would it help if I slept beside you through the night?"

She expected her suggestion to be met with denial, but he immediately leapt up and dove into her bed, yanking the covers up over his head to hide beneath them. If she hadn't felt so sorry for him, she'd have laughed at the sight of the trembling lump in the centre of the mattress.

"Okay," she said. "I'll take that as, 'Yes, Lydia, that would make me feel better, thank you.'"

The lump said nothing, but a pair of yellow eyes peered out at her from underneath the covers.

"Move over, then," she gently told the eyes. "There's no room for me if you're parked right in the middle."

Beetlejuice obeyed and moved to one side. Lydia laid down next to him.

"You're welcome to the blankets, too," she said. "I find it too warm, anyway."

He didn't respond. He merely crawled into a sitting position and peeked out over the covers, clutching the edges in twitchy, restless fingers as his gaze continued to flit from place to place about the room. There was nothing to see. No sign of anything lurking in the shadows, nor movement from the shadows themselves.

Lydia observed his nervous, paranoid behaviour and her heart ached for him. She reached out and put a tentative hand on his back, hoping to give him some comfort in the knowledge that she was right there beside him, but he only jumped at her touch like a frightened animal.

"Try to relax, Beetlejuice," she said softly. "You'll never get any rest if you don't."

"I know, babes," he said, voice strained and shaky. "But what if it comes back?"

"I'll be right here with you," she said. "We'll face it together. Okay?"

She both saw and heard him swallow. "Okay," he agreed, although she could tell it was with monumental effort.

"Okay," she repeated. "Now, do you feel comfortable enough to turn out the light? Or...?"

The ghost looked over at the lamp on the nightstand. He was the one closest to it, so Lydia wouldn't be turning it out, regardless. He took a few moments to draw in some deep breaths and steel his nerves. Then, finally, he reached over and switched it off, still too shaken up to even bother trying to use his magic. Darkness enveloped the room and he felt a chill run down his spine.

"You should really try to lie down, ya know," Lydia said to him after a minute or two of silence in the dark.

He hadn't even realized he was still sitting up. "Oh," he said, and hesitantly lowered his body until he was stretched out on the bed.

An uneventful half hour passed. Lydia eventually drifted off, and even Beetlejuice was finally starting to feel his eyelids grow heavy. When another ten minutes went by and absolutely nothing happened, he heaved a sigh that was almost relieved and finally did dare to close his eyes. Maybe his friend was right. Maybe he had somehow fallen asleep and hadn't been aware of it, and the whole thing had been a dream.

He gradually felt the tremors through his body start to calm. The chills faded to be replaced by comfortable warmth from the blankets and the living presence of the person beside him. He was very near falling asleep.

"You're coming home, Beetlejuice... There's no escape..."

The return of the threatening whisper made BJ's eyes pop open at the speed of light. He would have shot straight up in bed, but something was holding him down. An invisible weight seemed to be crushing his chest, making it impossible to even cry out. He could only manage one strangled gasp before he felt himself being pulled from the bed in one powerful, joint-wrenching movement. His arms, still free, flew out and grabbed for anything within reach; the first of which was his pillow, and the second of which was Lydia.

The girl was startled into wakefulness when her friend's desperate hand seized her arm and held on like a steel-jawed trap. Not only was his grip so tight that it was painful, but she was being yanked over to his side of the bed. She caught the edge of her own side and held on, her head swinging over in his direction to see what was the matter. She had expected to find him in the throes of another nightmare, but her blood ran cold when the moonlight revealed that he had been hauled sideways, half out of bed, and appeared to be struggling against some unseen entity. A split second later, she realized she actually COULD see something. Spread irregularly over Beetlejuice's body was an independently moving shadow, made apparent not just by the faint light from outside, but also due to the fact that it was somehow several shades darker than the regular shadows that mottled the room.

Lydia shrieked in fear as she realized Beetlejuice had been right. As she screamed, she felt the grip on her arm slacken before the contact was lost completely and her companion was pulled away from the bed. She watched in horror, crying out his name as he was dragged across the floor to the dresser, which he hit with a painful sounding thud. When the shadow hauled him up over the drawers, climbing towards the mirror, it dawned on her that it was intending to force him through the glass... back to The Neitherworld.

Thinking fast, and given more time thanks to BJ clinging to the corner of the dresser he'd managed to snag, Lydia made a dive for the lamp and switched it on, picking it up and directing the light at the living shadow. Its darkness paled in the wide beam, and its strength seemed to go with it. Beetlejuice could suddenly get the breath to scream and he twisted in the shadow's clutches, gaining more freedom of movement as it weakened. Lydia's quick-thinking hunch had been correct.

Ripping off the lampshade in an effort to cast as much light as possible in the next few seconds, she hurriedly set the lamp down and bolted for the light-switch on the wall by the door. As the ghost continued to holler and struggle, she hit the switch and light flooded the room from the 100 watt bulb. The frightening shadow vanished instantaneously, just as if it had never been there, and BJ hit the floor with a heavy thump.

Lydia hurried to her friend and hooked him under the arms, rushing to drag him away from the dresser. She wanted to put some distance between him and the mirror as quickly as possible. When she reached the side of the bed, she propped him up to sit against it and held him there by the shoulders, fearing he'd topple over if she let him go. He seemed utterly senseless and weak as a kitten.

"Beetlejuice, are you okay?" she asked urgently, now shaking violently herself. "It's gone! You were right; it really was here, but it's gone now! Speak to me, Beej!"

His head hung forward, his neck as loose and flimsy as a limp rag. His eyes were bleary and unfocused, and his tongue was hanging out, making him look like a sedated animal. The girl let go of one shoulder to carefully hold his head up for him, looking directly into his face with concern. Met with nothing but a blank stare, she let it fall back against the bed as she got an idea and set to fishing in the inside pockets of his suit jacket. She couldn't help making faces of disgust as her fingers glided through ooze and worms and who knew what else, but she soon found what she was looking for. Pulling out a nice, fat beetle, she waved it under the dead man's nose like smelling salts.

That did the trick. Beetlejuice's head lifted, awareness back in his eyes, and his tongue made a strike at the bug like an aggressive snake. He snapped up the beetle with a resounding crunch, making Lydia flinch.

"Are you okay?" she asked again, only to be answered with a burp. "Sounds like you are."

"Yeah, I'm okay, babes," he said, but she could see the anxiety returning as he glanced at the mirror. "I told ya it was real, though. I SAID I wasn't dreamin'."

"I'm sorry," Lydia apologized. "It wasn't that I didn't believe you. I just thought you were mistaken about not being asleep. I never doubted you were telling the truth."

"BLEHCK! Don't say that word," the ghost growled, wrinkling his nose. "But ya know what this means, don'tcha?" he continued seriously, a look of fear coming over him again. "It means SOMEONE knows where I am. And that means I can't even be safe in THIS world now! What am I gonna DO, Lyds?!"

"Whoa, settle down," she told him, hearing the rising panic in his voice. "We have to stay calm. We can't lose our heads over this."

"Especially ME," said BJ, clutching his head and thinking about all the times it had already been accidentally separated from his body.

"There's something that doesn't make sense," the girl said, trying to think rationally. "If this shadow monster knew you were here and it wanted to take you back to The Neitherworld, wouldn't it have been easier to just call your name three times and summon you back?"

Beetlejuice had to pause to think about that. "Well... yeah... I guess it would," he said, rubbing his chin in thought. "But no one said it was a SMART shadow monster."

"I dunno," said Lydia with a skeptical tone. "Anything smart enough to find you here should be smart enough to think of that. Shouldn't it?"

"Shadows have as much power for shpeech as they have shubstance," came a sudden voice from the mirror with a thick, vaguely Austrian accent.

BJ and Lydia jumped. After all they'd just been through, they certainly hadn't expected to see Dr. Zigmund Void looking back at them through the glass.

"They can vhisper to the mind und make it sheem as real as vhat I'm shaying to you now, but they cannot shpeak aloud," the doctor continued with his unsolicited explanation. "Of course, getting help from shomeone else to shay the vwords vould be a potential solution to za problem, but that vould mean sharing za revward for your capture, Mr. Juice, vhich is no doubt za motivation behind thish particular shadow's independent attempt... Oh, exshcuse me. You must be vondering vhy I am here at such an hour. I've taken za liberty of doing some shecret observation of your activitiesh und behaviour in anticipation of your appointment. You are a mosht eeentereshting subject, und I firmly believe my conclusions vill help your case vhen ve are through."

Beetlejuice looked at him blankly. "I have NO idea what you just said, Doc."

Void waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, vell, forget about it," he said. "Za important thing is I can help you. However, I shtrongly recommend you shleep vith za lights on tonight... und probably za next few nights. In fact, shtay out of za dark completely."

BJ and Lydia gulped in unison at his ominous words.

Dr. Void smiled and waved at them pleasantly. "Shee you tomorrooow!" he sang, and disappeared with a pop, leaving the two friends more nervous than ever.

Needless to say, the lights stayed on for the rest of the night.


	20. Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

When the morning sun returned in all its golden glory to chase away the last traces of darkness from Peaceful Pines, one very weary ghost and his human companion were awake to welcome it with open arms. Since their harrowing encounter with the attacking shadow, neither Beetlejuice nor Lydia had caught more than a few minutes of sleep, both being far too disturbed to relax and let their guard down. Lydia's nerves were made obvious during the night when she sought out every candle in the house and gathered them all to her room, just in case of an unexpected power failure; while BJ had remained tense and ready to use his magic at any moment if needed, praying his fear wouldn't make him freeze up as it so often did in the case of sandworms. While nothing more had occurred, and the lights had indeed done the job of keeping danger at bay, it had truly been one of the most nerve-racking nights they could ever remember.

And so, with even darker circles around their eyes than usual, the two friends had watched through the windows with bated breath as the sun seemed to take an eternity to fully break from the horizon, and together heaved a mutual sigh of relief when the lights could at last be turned off. Only then did they succumb to their exhaustion and dare to sleep for the remaining couple of hours before Dr. Void was due to return for the scheduled appointment.

It seemed as though they'd only blinked before Lydia's vampire alarm clock sounded in a fit of laughter and badly jolted them from their rest. Lydia was startled enough that she sat straight up in bed, but Beetlejuice let out a scream and literally hit the ceiling, busting straight through the bed canopy and clinging there like an oversized gecko. That set off a chain reaction as Lydia was startled a second time by the ruckus caused by her friend and let out a scream of her own as she jumped and fell out of bed. Her sharp cry and the heavy thump that followed only served to further rattle the fragile nerves of the already shaking ghost, making him lose his hold and fall back down with another shriek. He hit the mattress below, which rebounded his weight like a trampoline and bounced him awkwardly to one side where he collided with the girl on the floor. This was not a promising start to the day.

"Vell, vell, vell," came a voice from the dresser mirror, "I am clearly not a moment too shoon."

BJ and Lydia groaned as they raised their eyes to see Dr. Void observing their situation with barely concealed amusement.

"Actually, you're a half hour early, doctor," said Lydia somewhat crossly, rubbing a spot on her hip that she knew would be a bruise.

"A half hour early for za appointment, that is true," Void agreed. "But it sheems you could have used me here five minutsh ago to shvitch off za alarm before it vwoke you so... hmm... shall ve say, abruptly."

"He's got ya there, babes," Beetlejuice mumbled from where his face was half smooshed against the floor.

Lydia helped him sit up, wincing at the sticky sound his cheek made as it peeled away from the floorboards like old chewing gum. The ghoul sat back on his haunches and rubbed his aching head, not feeling at all prepared to face a therapy session or much of anything, really. He wouldn't have been looking forward to this at his best, much less when he'd had little sleep and been scared out of his wits multiple times in the last eight hours. Feeling as rotten as he did (and regretfully not in the good way), even a big bowl of Beetle Breakfast wouldn't have sounded appealing at that particular moment.

"Now, Miss Ditz," Dr. Void addressed Lydia, "if you vould be sho kind as to help me through za mirror, ve can get shtarted ahead of schedule."

"That's DEETZ," the girl stressed, frustrated by the fact that he still wasn't saying her name properly, but she moved to the dresser to comply. "What do I do?"

"Juuust place your hand againsht za glass, please," he instructed.

She did as she was told and the deceased psychiatrist reached out and met her hand with his own, making contact in the space between worlds. Their fingers laced together through the reflective surface, bridging the gap separating the living from the dead and allowing passage from one world to the next.

"Now, pull," he told her. "But not too hard. I shlipped in za shower recently und suffered a shpinal fracture."

"That musta shtung," Beetlejuice snickered, making fun of Void's accent.

No one paid him any mind. Lydia followed instructions and gently pulled the doctor through the mirror, drawing back as he stepped out onto the dresser. The strange, little man paused long enough to adjust his thick-lensed glasses, then hopped down to the floor, offering Lydia a curt nod of thanks for her assistance. The teen girl felt slightly ill when she got a good, close-up look at the bizarre crack that ran through the top of his proportionally large cranium.

Beetlejuice, meanwhile, was beginning to feel the pressure. He wasn't even sure what he was afraid of, but he knew he wasn't ready for this session. As Dr. Void approached him where he sat, his nerves got the better of him and he automatically slipped into his long-ingrained habit of cooking up lies to escape what he deemed an unpleasant situation.

"Mr. Juice," Void addressed him, ready to get down to business.

"Uh... hey, ya know somethin'? I just remembered..." he started, fumbling for any kind of excuse. "I've got this contract with some reeeally important people in the herbal remedies and snake oil industry... and, well, I sorta made an agreement that I wouldn't turn to modern medicine if I ever got sick or whatnot... 'cause, hey, ya know how it is, right? It just wouldn't be good for business if anyone found out a bigwig like myself wasn't usin' the products, ya see." A big, curly, green wig appeared on his head at those words. "The best endorsement is a personal one, know what I mean? Soooo, since psychiatry is a branch of modern medicine, I'm afraid that means I'll hafta cancel our little appointment today... heh, heh... But thank you for coming! Please, help yourself to a brochure on your way out! I bid you adieu, farewell, and arrivederci! Adios!" The wig disappeared as he grinned and wriggled his fingers at Void in a feeble, fluttery wave.

The doctor and Lydia both stared at him with hard expressions that said they weren't buying this nonsense for a second, nor did they find it the slightest bit amusing.

"Hey, c'mon, this is serious stuff," BJ pleaded in the face of their obvious disapproval. "I mean, I'm just sayin' and all, but I don't think my contract allows me even so much as a consultation with a doctor. As a matter of fact, I think it prohibits me from even SPEAKING to a doctor of any kind, even under casual circumstances... so, c'mon, gimme a break, will ya? I'm already in danger of breachin' my agreement here." He gave an almost apologetic shrug and continued to grin like he'd stolen and eaten an entire box of chocolate covered beetles.

Void and Lydia remained steadfast and glowered at him without the vaguest flicker of humour.

Desperate, his demeanor shifted to sudden hostility as he flew to his feet. "That is, if you really ARE, in fact, a REAL doctor!" he blurted accusingly in his phony British accent, crossing his arms and eyeing Void with mock skepticism. "WHERE is your proof? WHERE are your papers? I DEMAND to see official documents!" He stuck his nose in the air for several seconds, then looked at the psychiatrist for reaction.

Void glared at him with the same unchanged, unyielding expression. BJ's gaze then flicked over to Lydia, who was equally unimpressed and, if he knew his Lyds, was thinking about smacking him.

This clearly wasn't working. It was time for Plan B.

"I DON'T WANNA DO THIS! YOU CAN'T MAKE ME!" Beetlejuice wailed as he threw himself down and pounded his fists on the floor like a temperamental two-year-old. "I HAVE RIGHTS! WAAAAA!"

Lydia opened her mouth to say something, but Void stopped her. "Let him go," he said. "He's just exshpressing his inner child."

"I wasn't aware he had an 'inner' child," she replied, rolling her eyes. "He wears it so often on the outside."

They endured the little tantrum for a full minute before the doctor made a move, stepping closer and patting the fussing ghost on the head. "There, there, Mr. Juice," he patronized him. "If you don't vish to shpeak to me, there is not a shoul in za vworld who vill make you. You are a free shpook."

Beetlejuice stopped his howling and looked up. "Hey, yeah! That's right!" he proudly declared. "I'm free to make my own decisions! It may be too late to LIVE my way... or, that is to say, I'M too late. Pfft!... But no one can stop me from bein' DEAD my way! Ha! I'm my own ghost and I do WHAT I want, WHEN I want!"

Void let the faintest of smiles slip across his features. "At leasht until za Neithervorld authorities apprehend you. Then there von't be a shoul in za vworld who vill shtop you from being fed to za shandvworms."

"AAAARGHHH!" his head spun wildly on the end his neck until he seized it with both hands. "OKAY, OKAY! I'LL TALK, I'LL TALK!"

Void broke into a full grin. "I thought you might be pershuaaaded," he said.

"If he hadn't," Lydia put in, "I'd have reminded him of his PROMISE." She put strong emphasis on the word and looked hard at her friend.

The ghost looked back at her as if she'd grown a third arm. "What p-p-prom-pr-promi- aw, forget it, I can't even say it... What are you talkin' about, babes?"

She slapped her forehead. "Beetlejuice! You promised me you'd go through with this! Remember?!"

"Oh."

"Why do I even bother?" the girl grumbled, feeling a headache coming on.

"Vell, now, jusht a minute," Dr. Void said calmly, pulling a file folder out of his jacket and thumbing through the pages within. "Ah, yes... You reported shome eeeinshtances of memory loss vhen you came to me za other day. Mr. Juice may genuinely have no recollection of shuch a promise."

"Yeah, Lyds," BJ said to her with a smug smile, "I may genuinely have no recollection of shuch a promise."

"I'll just bet," said Lydia, raising one eyebrow as she folded her arms tightly across her chest.

"Fortunately, ve can eeeasily fixsh this problem," Void spoke as he rolled up the entire folder into a thick cylindrical shape, "as follows..." He whacked Beetlejuice over the head with it, eliciting a surprised yelp. "Do you remember now?" he asked.

"Uh..." the ghoul rubbed his head. "I... uh..."

Void whacked him again, a little harder. "How about now?"

"OUCH!" BJ cried. "Hey, what are you-"

The doctor whacked him a third time, even harder. "Now, Mr. Juice?"

"OW! ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! I REMEMBER!" he finally gave in. "SHEESH!"

"There, you see?" Void said to Lydia. "Za treatment needn't be complicated to vwork, Miss Ditz."

"That's DEETZ," Lydia reminded him again, wishing she could have the pleasure of giving HIS head a whack. She had to admit, though, she loved the way he handled her notoriously difficult companion.

"Doctors," said Beetlejuice, still rubbing his sore head. "Ya know I hate 'em."

"Now, if you are quite through shtalling," Void said to him, unrolling the folder and retrieving a pen from his pocket, "ve can begin. Let me shtart by asking vhat sheems to be troubling you?"

The impertinent ghost sighed in defeat. "Well..." he began, finally resigned to the fact that there was no way out of this, "to be honest, doc... and ya know I hate it... I'm a wreck." He turned into an old sailing ship, broken in half. "My nerves are shot." He became a pair of pistols, firing rapidly into the air. "I'm falling apart!" His body broke into pieces and collapsed to the floor. "Know what I mean?" asked his head.

"Okay, shettle down," the doctor told him gently, scribbling something on his papers. "Can you tell me exshactly vhen you shtarted feeling this vay? Und please be as shpecific as possible. Vhen do you first remember feeling out of shorts?"

"Out of SHORTS?" The heap of body parts came together in an instant and Beetlejuice was suddenly sporting a pair of purple boxers with beetles all over them.

Void wasn't impressed. "No, not out of shorts! Out of shorts! Shorts!"

"That's what I said," BJ grinned, right back to his old tricks. "Shorts!" The beetle boxers turned into a pair of flowery Hawaiian shorts.

"Out of SORTS, Beetlejuice!" Lydia growled. "You're doing this on purpose!"

"Hey, don't blame me!" he argued as the shorts were replaced by his usual striped suit trousers. "I'm not the one with the speech impediment!"

"You WILL be if you don't start cooperating!" she threatened, raising a fist to his lip.

He gulped. "Okay, okay, okay... Jeez, babes, have you got anger issues or what?"

"I can fixsh those, too," Void said to her, "if you vould like to book a sheparate appointment."

"No... thank you," Lydia replied forcibly calm-voiced through clenched teeth.

The doctor accepted that and turned back to his patient. "Now, shtop messing around und answer my question. Vhen did you shtart feeling out of- er, unlike yourshelf?"

Beetlejuice stole a glance at Lydia. "Well... um..." he mumbled. "I guess... I, uh..." he trailed off, an unusual quietness coming over him that greatly contrasted with his antics from only moments before.

"You must shpeak plainly," Void encouraged him. "Don't be afraid to exshpress yourself."

BJ cleared his throat and took a breath as if to try again, but any words he could think of died before they reached his lips. His eyes kept flicking over in Lydia's direction, and his foolish facade continued to visibly deflate as some serious emotion bubbled beneath the surface. None of this was lost on the trained eyes of the psychiatrist, nor was his best friend oblivious to the unspoken meaning behind his behaviour.

"It's okay, Beej," Lydia said, her tone soft and sincere once again. "You can say it. It's not like I don't know."

His mouth hung open, unsure whether that had made him feel better or worse. How much did she REALLY know about what was going on inside him? She'd made it clear on several occasions that she was aware to some degree, but how much could he really say in front of her? How was he supposed to admit that she was actually at the root of his misery, especially when he hated admitting to anything in general? Why did this have to be so difficult?

He closed his eyes for several seconds, his observers allowing him some silence to collect his thoughts. At last, he sighed and opened them again.

"I can't," he said flatly, hanging his head to look forlornly at the floor.

Lydia sighed next, then turned to the doctor and spoke for him. "It started when I met my boyfriend," she revealed.

Beetlejuice gasped. "Babes!"

"Dr. Void can't help you if we don't let him know what's going on," she stated matter-of-factly. "If you can't tell him the truth, I will."

"It's NOT the truth!" he crossed his arms defiantly. "You're only guessin'!"

The girl wearily placed her fingertips to her temples, feeling the effects of little sleep and getting frustrated with his uncooperative attitude. "Beetlejuice, please," she begged, "don't start the denial game."

He ignored her plea. "I ain't startin' anything," he griped. "Seems you're the one tryin' to start somethin' FOR me. I didn't ask ya to jump in like that!"

Lydia was a little surprised that he seemed angry at her. "I'm only trying to help you," she said.

"Well, maybe I don't want any help!" he was getting more fired up. "From you OR old Ziggy here!"

"Don't be like that," his best friend pleaded. "You know you need to do this. You need help, Beej... for more than one reason."

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't!" he retorted stubbornly. "Maybe there's nothin' wrong with me!" He uncrossed his arms and pointed an accusing finger at her. "Maybe YOU'RE the one with the problem! Ever think of that, Lyds?! Maybe YOU need therapy!"

"Oh, stop it!" she commanded. "You're just being silly and childish now!"

The ghost put his hands on his hips. "Yeah, well, you could take a lesson!" he growled. "You're so busy all the time, tryin' to be more grooown uuup," he drawled those two words mockingly, "with your perfect, little mould-boy and his fancy shmancy gifts and stupid trips in his rusty, old gag-wagon... Ya don't even know how to have REAL fun anymore! It ain't like growin' up is doin' YOU any favours, Lydia!"

Lydia's mouth was agape and an angry frown contorted her pretty features. "You hypocrite! After everything you said to me last night about having my own life to live and not wanting to ruin my future! How do you expect me to live my life if I don't grow up?!"

He turned away from her, refusing to meet her eyes. "I don't remember sayin' anything like that," he lied. "You're dreamin' stuff."

"And YOU'RE a big, fat LIAR, Beetlejuice!" she spat.

"Don't flatter me, babes. It'll get ya nowhere."

"Okay, everybody shimmer down, I've sheen enough," Dr. Void finally stepped in, startling the arguing friends who'd apparently forgotten he was even there. "You have revealed a conshiderable amount of eeeinformation vhich has allowed me to gain a clear picture of vhat is at za heart of za problem. But now I vould like you to shimply tell me vhat you are feeling, Mr. Juice."

Beetlejuice arched an eyebrow. "Feeling? Pfft! I don't HAVE stupid feelings," he spoke the last word with utter distaste.

"Tell me about za shmart ones, then," Void quipped.

"Ohhh, greeaaat," BJ groaned dramatically. "We got a comedian over here. Good one, doc. You're a barrel of laughs."

A large, oak barrel appeared in place of the doctor. The lid popped open and Void's head peeped out, along with a flurry of goofy laughter that emanated from deep within the wooden confines.

"Do you have to avoid every question and fight every step of the way through this?" Lydia asked her uncooperative companion. "You're making this a lot harder than it needs to be!"

"Caaalllm yourself, Miss Ditz," Void said to her before Beetlejuice could offer a retort. "This is your friend's shtandard behaviour. He is revealing far more to me by his natural obshtinacy than he is even avware."

"Well, that's a relief," she responded as she watched the doctor climb out of the barrel and kick it to the side. "All he's giving ME is a headache."

"Hey, no one said I was GIVIN' ya anything," said the obnoxious poltergeist. "My headaches don't come cheap, I'll have you know."

Lydia refused to look at him. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"Let me provide you vith a brief shummary of vhat I have gleaned from Beeeetlejuice's shtubborn attitude und za ongoing hoshtile exchange betveen za two of you," said Void, preparing to launch into a speech.

BJ pretended to be excited. "Should I make some slopcorn?" he asked, a carnival-style popcorn wagon appearing beside him as he turned into a pig wearing an apron.

The doctor disregarded the silly visual and cleared his throat. "It ish obvious that there is a shtrong relationship here," he began, placing his hands behind his back. "Friendship of za deeeepesht kind, I vould say. But za problem lies in Beetlejuice's inability to exshpress his emotions during vhat I gather is a crucial time of change in za dynamics of said relationship." He stepped nearer to Lydia and gestured at her. "Young Lydia is in za midsht of becoming a vwoman, und adoleshcence is among za most emotionally excruuuciating periods in a pershon's exishtence. This is a shtage of intense change for her, of course, but za closheness you share means that Beetlejuice musht endure all za gradual alterations to Lydia's lifeshtyle as vell... za introduction of this boyfriend, for exshample." He lowered his thick glasses and peered knowingly at BJ over the lenses.

The ghoul flashed him a guilty grimace.

"This schenario is a complicated one in and of itshelf," he went on, "but Beetlejuice's natural tendenshcy to repress his feelings only amplifies za shtress of an already difficult shituation."

BJ's ears perked up. "What was that last word, doc?" he asked. "I didn't quite catch it."

"Shituation," Void repeated, prompting a rude chuckle. "Vhat? Vhat is sho amusing?"

Lydia elbowed her friend in the gut, slightly knocking the wind out of him. "Never mind!" she told the doctor. "Please, continue!"

Void did so. "Ahem... Based on my knowledge of potential psychological reshponses to such shcircumstanshces," he said, "I vould shay that Mr. Juice is exshperiencing feelings of jealousy, anger, reshentment, shadness, und even betrayal. But he contaaiiins theshe feelings. He keepsh them locked inshide und they just keep getting shtronger und shtronger, growing und feshtering like some horrible, disgushting boil. Vhether he realizes it or not, za platonic love he feels for you, Miss Ditz, vill not allow him to openly exshpress vhat he really feels. Likevise, that shame sheemingly shelfless love does indeed have a shelfish, possessive shide that prevents him from accshepting any changes he pershcieves as threats to za relationship he sho deeply values. Za result is major interrrrnalized conflict that his body doeshn't know vhat to do vith. In light of Beetlejuice's unuuusual powers, I find it entirely feasible that this unresholved emotional turmoil vould manifesht in za form of outburshts such as ve saw in za Neithervorld."

"Wow," said Lydia, honestly impressed. "You gathered all that just now?"

"My dear girl, I am a professional," Void stated solemnly. "Und you did fill me in on a few things vhen you arranged za appointment. Beshides, this is a shtory based on a cartoon. Ve don't have time for exshtensive psychoanalysis. It alsho helps that I read za shynopsis," he added with a smirk.

Beetlejuice and Lydia exchanged a bewildered look, but they didn't question him.

"In any event," he went on, "I am fully prepared to shcertify that your mental shtate rendered you incapable of controlling yourshelf, Mr. Juice. It is my professional opinion that you cannot be held reshponsible for vhat happened. Miss Ditz has informed me of Shcuzzo za clown's provocation, vhich I have no reason to disbelieve, und that vould eeeasily sherve as a trigger for an epishode of vhat I am diagnosing as dissociative monshtrosic psychosis."

"What does THAT mean?" BJ asked.

"It meansh you turned into a big, shcary monshter and vwent bongos," Void simplified. "Fair enough?"

"Fair enough," he agreed with a shrug.

"That's it, then?" Lydia asked, surprised. "You don't have to examine Beetlejuice any further?"

"Not to produce za documentsh you need to help his case," said the doctor. "However, if he requires treatment..." he let out a strange giggle, "heheh... that vill take shome seeeerious vwork!"

BJ groaned at that.

"Don't complain, Beej," Lydia told him. "This is great news. It means Dr. Void has all he needs to back you up, so you're done for the day."

"Corrrrrect," Void confirmed, rolling his R dramatically. "Und now that ve are finished," he took out his pocket watch and checked the time, "I can get back to za Neithervorld in time for breakfast vith a shcertain special ghoul."

"So that's why ya came early," Beetlejuice leaned over and nudged him with his elbow. "Got a date, huh, Ziggy?"

"You could shay that," he replied. "It's vith my mother."

"Awww... that's kinda sweet," said Lydia, making the doctor smile.

"I dunno, babes..." her friend leaned her way and whispered behind his hand. "Ya ever read this guy's 'Oedipus complex' theory?"

"I heard that," Void said. "Und I'm shurprised YOU'VE read about it, Mr. Juice."

"I'm surprised you even READ," Lydia teased.

"Hey!" BJ blurted in offense.

The girl smiled and gave him a playful push to let him know she was kidding.

"In any case," said the psychiatrist, "you have me confushed vith shomeone else. I never theorized such nonshense."

Beetlejuice snorted. "Yeah... and I never put those piranha in the mayor's swimming pool. Heh, heh, heh!"

"Anyvay," Void said, putting his watch and papers back into his jacket, "if you vill exshcuse me, I'll be on my vay. I vish you vell until za nexsht time ve meet, Mr. Juice," he shook BJ's hand, then turned to Lydia. "Und za shame to you, Miss Ditz," he shook her hand also.

"That's Dee- oh, never mind," she let it go. "Thank you for your help, Dr. Void."

"Yeah, later, doc," BJ said, aloof as ever.

Lydia poked him in the side. "You could thank him, too, ya know," she suggested. "He may have just saved your hide. At least show you're grateful."

"Oh, I'm grateful," he said. "Grateful this is over. Pfft!"

Void perceived Lydia's exasperation at this and he patted her on the shoulder. "Ah, don't shveat it," he told her confidently. "I don't require vwords of appreciation to gain shatisfaction from my vwork."

Beetlejuice folded his arms, looking ever so smug.

"Za financial gain is shatisfying enough," the doctor added, smiling and handing BJ his bill.

The 'ghost with the most' took a look. His jaw dropped and his face blanched several shades paler than usual. With a strained, wheezy gasp, his eyes rolled back in his head and he promptly sank to the floor in a dead faint.

Void laughed out loud and retrieved the bill from his limp, lifeless hand, tearing it up. "Tell him vhen he vwakes up that za syshtem covers my exshpenses in this case. I just vwanted to shee za look on his face."

Lydia couldn't hold back a giggle. Beej wasn't going to know whether to be more angry or relieved.

"Toodle-oo, Miss Ditz," said the sly, old psychiatrist with a wave.

She rolled her eyes at the name but smiled and waved back. He vanished from her room with a pop.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Beetlejuice and Lydia walked along a vacant beach together in the peace of a beautiful summer evening. The ocean was placid, its calm waves lapping ever so softly at the shore, and the sky was like a canvas that had been splashed with all the warmest colours; a work of fine art painted by the setting sun. High above their heads, seagulls lazily rode the gentle breeze with tranquil abandon, while smaller shore birds skittered across the warm sand at their feet like a group of tiny, feathered dancers. It was all too disgusting for BJ, but he was with his best friend, and that made everything okay.

Lydia was happy. It had been a long time since Beetlejuice had seen her smiling so much. She even looked younger, somehow; more like she had when they met. She ran ahead of him every now and then, searching for crabs and other fascinating sea creatures that inhabited the tide pools. He cracked jokes about eating every strange critter she found, and commented that the especially ugly ones resembled some of his relatives. Her laughter was music to his ears. It seemed like ages since she'd found him so funny, and nothing made him happier than making her laugh. In light of her obvious joy, he discovered that he, too, was smiling and laughing more than he had for an eternity.

With not a single other soul in sight in this marvellously surreal scene, the two friends were engrossed in their own private, little world of unspoiled serenity. The beach seemed to stretch on forever, offering them an infinite supply of peace and wonder, and keeping them free from the interference of others. It felt, for once, like all was right in their personal corner of the universe.

And then it all changed.

The sky darkened as clouds moved in at an unnatural pace, and the water started to churn. The warm sea air became tainted with the chill of a rising wind that tugged with growing ferocity at their hair and clothing. Above the roar of each increasingly powerful gust, Beetlejuice began to hear an odd hissing sound that seemed to emanate from all directions at once. He jammed his fingers in his ears and drilled them around in circles a few times, thinking his hearing must be at fault. However, as the ocean roiled and became only more agitated by the wind, the strange noise grew in volume right along with it, and the dead man felt his chilled blood go even colder. It sounded as if a million whispering voices were all speaking at the same time, overlapping one another and jumbled together like a bag of angry bees.

Was Lydia hearing this, too? She seemed neither aware of the noise nor the total change in atmosphere as she proceeded to explore another pool up ahead. She didn't even appear to notice the dark waves that were now rushing up to cover her feet... rising to her knees... encircling her waist...

Beetlejuice shouted to her, but she showed no sign she'd heard. He started to move toward her, intent on getting her out of the rapidly rising water, but as he did, something seized him and held him firmly to the spot. Eyes wide, he looked down and felt a surge of terror as he saw his body encased in the darkness of a frighteningly familiar, sourceless shadow. Like a hideous, intangible snake, it slithered all over his form, wrapping him in tight, invisible coils and squeezing the afterlife out of him. As he struggled in vain against the absolutely ruthless power, the legion of whispers switched from the din of infinite indistinct conversations to a barrage of harsh laughter that rattled around his skull and shook him to the core.

With his strength draining, BJ fixed his desperate gaze on Lydia once more. The water was up to her chest now, and still she appeared impossibly oblivious. Fearing for both himself and his best friend, the ghost watched in hopeless horror as a single wave slowly arched up like the back of an aggressive cat beside her, displaying what he perceived as a consciousness of its own. He tried again to break free, to get to Lydia and save her, but the shadow's hold was like a vise and it never wavered. Completely powerless, he could only look on as the sentient wave suddenly shot forward, reaching for his friend with long, greedy, liquid fingers and swiftly snatched the girl up, dragging her beneath the surface and out of sight forever.

"LYDIAAAAA!"

"Beetlejuice, you're dreaming."

His eyes opened at the sound of Lydia's voice. He was sitting up in bed. Lydia's bed. She was standing beside it, next to him. Reality came flooding back.

The ghost let out a tremendously relieved sigh. "Oh, babes..." he moaned, feeling a trickle of cold sweat roll down his back. "I just had the most horrible nightmare... There was sunshine, and birds, and fresh air..." he covered his face with his hands, "it was awful!"

She patted him on the shoulder. "I know," she said. "But it's over now. It's all over."

"Yeah," he breathed, dropping his head forward wearily. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, Lyds. I really don't. The stress is killin' me... again."

"It doesn't matter anymore," she told him, her voice so calm it sounded peculiar. "It's finished. You're through."

He paused, puzzled at her odd choice of words, then raised his head to look at her. "I am?"

Lydia nodded, but her face was a mask of expressionless indifference. BJ had never seen her look this way before. It confused and alarmed him.

"Babes?"

The very next second, something slammed into his chest like a speeding train. He didn't even have time to process the fact that anything had happened before all the breath left his body, along with all his energy. Mouth agape from both shock and sudden overwhelming weakness, he slowly lowered his gaze and perceived the slim, pale form of Lydia's extended arm, her hand still buried deep in his ribcage. In a rigid stupor, he could only watch as she pulled back agonizingly slow, withdrawing her hand from his body and taking what he recognized as his own dead heart with it.

More horrified than he ever thought possible, and so painfully sapped of his strength, he forced himself to look up and meet his friend's eyes, searching for some sort of explanation. She stared back at him with that same cold, indifferent mask. There was no trace of emotion. No sign of the warm, caring personality he so greatly adored. He felt he was looking at a stranger.

"Lydia," he rasped, "...why?" although he wasn't sure if he was asking why she'd done it or why it seemed to be destroying him.

"Because we can't do this anymore," she said, her tone callous and so un-Lydia-like, it was more like a very poor imitation of the voice BJ knew so well. "YOU can't. And I can't."

She looked down and he followed her gaze. Clutched in her slender fingers as if by the talons of a predatory bird, his heart slowly drained of all colour, becoming a miserable, ashen grey before their eyes. They watched together, Beetlejuice mesmerized and Lydia without care, as it suddenly began to wilt and quickly shrivelled up to nothing but a mummified shell in a mere few seconds, resembling a handful of dry leaves. Lydia lifted the poor, withered thing near to her face and examined it closely, turning its ugly, contorted form in the light several times as she peered at it from different angles with detached curiosity. She seemed to regard it like a scientist that spent years testing on animals, coldly objective and numb to the suffering of the subject.

Then, without warning, she closed her fist around it.

Beetlejuice could only manage a pained wheeze as he both saw and felt his heart crumble to dust in her grasp. He watched as tiny, disintegrated fragments spilled from between Lydia's fingers, pouring like fine sand to the floor.

Weak and feeling for all the world like he was dying for the second time, he raised a badly trembling arm and reached out to her, begging for something of which he wasn't even certain. Was he asking for the heart back? For help? For the slightest shred of compassion from the person he thought was his best friend? It didn't matter. Lydia was unmoved. She just stared at him without feeling, as if he were no more than a blank sheet of paper.

In that moment, the ghost suddenly didn't care if he was facing his own destruction. Existence was meaningless if Lydia no longer cared for him. There was no point in fighting. With a breathless whimper, he let the weakness consume him and allowed himself to fall back on the bed, welcoming the end with hopeless resignation.

But then, Lydia was leaning over him. Her eyes were dead, but her lips were moving.

"You're still dreaming," she said flatly.

BJ stared up at her, barely comprehending.

"Wake up, Beej," she said with just a touch more emotion.

His head was swimming. There was a buzzing in his ears. He couldn't move.

"Beetlejuice, wake up!"

His whole body jerked and the scene vanished as he snapped back to reality with a cry of surprise. He wasn't lying on Lydia's bed, but rather on the floor with a pillow beneath his head. She was kneeling beside him, her hand still on his shoulder where she'd obviously been shaking him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said, sounding completely like her warm-hearted self. "You were making a lot of noise in your sleep. You sounded upset, so I thought I better wake you. Are you okay?"

The ghost was so relieved, he could have cried. Instead, he heaved a mammoth sigh and immediately sat up to pull her into a hug. Lydia was a bit taken aback by the action. There was a sense of desperation about the embrace that was unusual. He said nothing, but squeezed her tight and then quickly sat back with another weary exhale, eyes averted.

After a few moments of silence, the girl asked again, "Beetlejuice, are you okay?"

He chewed his bottom lip, reluctant to speak. What was he supposed to say? The truth was he hadn't been 'okay' for a long time. Lydia already knew that. Part of him wondered why she would ask such a dumb question.

"Yeah, sure," he said at last. "Fine, babes."

"What was it?" she asked, curious and concerned.

"Oh, nothin'," he told her. "Just, uh... I was dreamin' about how my mom used to force me to have a bath. That's all."

Lydia watched him draw his knees up and wrap his arms around them. He still wouldn't look her in the eye. She knew he wasn't telling the truth.

"You're a poor liar, ya know," she informed him in a matter-of-fact sort of way.

That made him look at her. "No need to insult me," he said, but there was no fire in his words.

She placed a comforting hand on his back. "If you don't wanna talk about it, it's okay," she said gently. "Sometimes it helps, though. A lot of nightmares seem sillier and not nearly as scary when you get them out in the open."

"Not mine," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

She gave him a rather sad, sympathetic expression. "Well... I guess living in The Neitherworld could certainly make for a wilder imagination," she admitted. "I've read that you shouldn't take dreams literally, though. They're more symbolic of things that are on your mind."

BJ rolled his eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Void," he grumbled. Then he looked around. "Speakin' of which..."

"Oh, yeah," said his friend. "Before he left, he asked me to tell you his bill is actually covered by the system, I guess because his diagnosis is to be used in your legal defense, so you don't owe him any money."

The ghoul brightened a bit at this. "Best news I've heard in... uh... however long I've been layin' on the floor."

"All day," Lydia filled him in. "You were exhausted, so I just let you sleep where you were. I got some rest, too. Boy, did I need it."

She moved out of the way as he stretched out and stiffly began to stand. There was a loud crack and he grunted as his hands flew to his back. Face screwed up in pain, he gave her a look.

"Sorry," she said, wincing on his behalf. "I thought the pillow would help."

The phone rang and made them both jump. Beetlejuice scrunched his eyes shut and stifled a yell as the movement didn't do his back any favours. Lydia hissed through her teeth in sympathy before she went to answer it.

"Hello?... Oh, hi, Sean..."

The ghost growled to himself. Of course, it was Mouldy. Who else? This probably meant another evening spent alone. He rubbed at his sore back, then slowly straightened it. Satisfied that he could move, he sauntered over and leaned against the wall next to his friend, just to be an annoying presence.

"Yeah?... Oh, that's cool," she was saying. "Uh huh... Beetlejuice? He's right here, actually." She paused, then spoke to BJ directly, "Sean says hi, Beej."

Beetlejuice wrinkled his nose in disdain, then belched loudly at the phone, making Lydia cover the mouthpiece as she recoiled.

"He, uh... sends his regards, Sean," she said, avoiding the cloud of bad breath.

Her companion snorted.

She continued her conversation. "So, what's up?... Oh, really?... Ha, ha! Wow!... No, I'd say it was a good idea. I'd have done the same thing... Yeah, I think so, too... Mm hmm... Well, yeah, exactly..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her paranormal pal pulling faces and making yapping motions with his hand. She turned her back on him, trying to pretend he wasn't there so she could focus on what her boyfriend was saying. Ever the pest and not one to be ignored, BJ changed his head into Sean's and leaned over her shoulder, lips flapping in silent mockery of the boy on the other end of the phone. Lydia never missed a beat as she reached up to grab his nose and yanked on it, making it stretch like an elastic band. Beetlejuice hardly had time to protest before she let go and it snapped back in his face.

"OW!" he yelped.

"What was what?" Lydia said into the phone. "That? Oh, nothing. I, um, stubbed my toe... No, it's fine."

"Hmph!" said BJ indignantly, holding a hand over his nose.

Lydia kept talking. "Uh huh... Yep... Oh?... That sounds really cool... Oh, yeah, I've wanted to see that one. When did you plan on going?... Tonight?"

Still shielding his nose, the dead man sighed as he listened. This was it. Lydia was going out, just as he'd suspected. Probably to a movie, by the sound of it.

"Well, gee, normally I'd say yes, Sean, but I actually planned on staying home tonight."

Beetlejuice sucked in a sharp breath of surprise and choked on his own saliva. The girl turned around and thumped him on the back as she continued.

"Yeah, I haven't had much sleep and I'm really not feeling the best," she said over the racket of his coughing and sputtering. "Uh, well, it's a long story... Yeah... It was a nice idea, though. Next time I'll go with you."

BJ could hardly believe his ears. She was turning down a date with Mouldy to stay home with HIM? Maybe he was still dreaming. He hacked really hard and brought up something that looked like the leg of a giant grasshopper. Lydia gagged as he picked it up and stuck it in his pocket for later.

"Ewww!" she exclaimed. "What? No, not you, Sean! It was... well, never mind... Yep... Uh huh... Well, thanks for asking me... Okay... Talk to you tomorrow... You, too... Bye."

She hung up and the ghost stared at her like she was crazy.

"What's THAT look for?" she asked.

He reached over and rested his wrist against her forehead. "Nope, no fever," he said. "Didja hit your head or somethin', babes?"

Lydia laughed. "No, silly. What makes you say that?"

"Oh, I dunno," he said sarcastically. "Maybe the fact that ya turned down what was probably another exciting date just to stay cooped up here? In the boring, old house? With boring, old ME?"

"You're not boring," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "And did you really think I'd leave you alone after what happened last night?"

He shrugged. "Why not? I CAN take care of myself, ya know. Ya don't hafta stay here and babysit me. It's not like I'm a dog ya gotta let outside to do its business every couple of hours." He turned into a sharp-dressed collie sitting at a desk stacked with papers and other office supplies.

"I know that," said Lydia as he returned to normal. "I'm not babysitting you. I'm keeping you company. Besides, how could I go out and have any fun when I'd be worrying about you here all alone with that creepy shadow stalking you?"

Beetlejuice shivered at the mere mention of it. Not only did the actual terrifying events replay in his mind, but also his nightmare. He stuffed his hands in his pockets in an effort to hide the tremors, but his friend caught the unsteady movements.

"There, see?" she pointed at him. "You're as worried about it as I am."

"Bah," he stuck his nose in the air. "I ain't afraid of no shadow."

No sooner had the words left his mouth when a black shape appeared at his feet, sending him rocketing to the ceiling with a scream.

Lydia bent down to scoop up her cat. "It's just Percy!" she called up to the frightened ghoul. "Come down from there!"

"What if it isn't?!" he whined, clinging to the light fixture and shaking like a leaf. "What if it's a shadow in a cat costume?! Or... oh, no... What if YOU'RE a shadow in a Lydia costume?!"

"Okay, now you're just being paranoid," she said.

He eyed her suspiciously. "Oh, suuuuurrre! That's exactly what a shadow would want me to think!"

She put the cat down and folded her arms. "Would a shadow tell you you're being a goofball?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

BJ thought that over. "It might," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Get down from there, Beetlejuice."

He obeyed, albeit after a moment's hesitation, and floated back down beside her. Lydia could see he was still trembling, and she was surprised to have him pull away when she reached out to touch his hand.

"Whoa, you need to relax," she told him, keeping her voice even and calm.

Somehow that didn't make him feel any better. It reminded him too much of her deathly calm tone from the dream. He crossed his arms over his chest, subconsciously protecting his heart, and tried to maintain his composure despite the army of chills parading along his spine. Lydia eyed him with an expression that looked something like pity, which only made him feel sick to his stomach. He didn't want to be pitied. He wanted to be 'the ghost with the most', powerful and untouchable like he'd always been... or at least how he'd always been before this whole downward spiral began.

Highly aware of her best friend's discomfort, Lydia said, "I think it's time to start turning some lights on. It won't be dark for a couple hours, but it would certainly make ME feel better."

She flicked on her bedroom light as she exited the room to begin flipping switches and turning on lamps all over the house. BJ stayed where he was, hovering on the spot and frowning as he uncrossed his arms and looked at his shaking hands. He grabbed his left wrist, hoping to still the involuntary movement that betrayed his fear, but the tremors travelled up his arms and made his teeth chatter. Frustrated, he jammed his hands back in his pockets and poked his head out into the hall. As the entire house became flooded with artificial light, he was surprised to find he did feel somewhat more at ease, and inwardly he thanked his friend.

"That's better," she said when she came back up the stairs.

"Your parents won't think so when they see the light bill," said the ghost, sounding more like himself. "Not that I care," he added with a snort.

"I'll pay for it when I get a job," Lydia said simply.

Beetlejuice actually threw back his head and laughed at that. "AAAH, ha, ha, haaa! Gee, babes! For a moment there, you actually sounded serious! Pfft!"

The girl never cracked a smile. "I am serious," she stated solemnly. "My parents have been good to me, and it's only right that I help out when I can. After I get my driver's license, I plan to apply for a part-time job at the florist's shop in town."

BJ stopped smiling and looked a tad ill. "The one with the rainbow of daisies painted on the window?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"That's disgusting."

She put her hands on her hips. "No, it isn't," she said. "It's a good place to work. And I'll be able to learn more about different kinds of flowers and hopefully get to try my hand at some creative arrangements. Or would you prefer I work over at Barney's Burger Barn instead?"

"Burger Barn! Burger Barn! Burger Barn!" he chanted.

"THAT'S disgusting," said Lydia.

Beetlejuice beamed. "Heh, heh... sure is!" he agreed. "They feed more rats than customers, and the fries smell like that special kind of toe jam you get when ya wear rubber boots with no socks!" He nudged her gently with his elbow, "Ya know I love it!"

Lydia couldn't help but find that amusing. "You would!" she giggled, relieved that he'd stopped shying away from her. "And speaking of food... although, I wouldn't call any of THAT edible... how about we get something to eat? I was thinking we could watch a movie or something afterwards. Mom and Dad won't be home until tomorrow morning, so the living room is ours all night. We could even have a movie marathon if you feel like it."

"Sounds okay to me," he said, not really caring what they did as long as they did it together. He hadn't wanted to spend the night in her bedroom with the dresser mirror close by, anyway.

"Great," said his friend. "I'll even cook."

BJ bit his lip. "Ummm... are ya sure ya wanna go to all that trouble?" he asked. "I can just go find some bugs under a rock... or scrape somethin' off the bottom of my shoes... or..."

"Beetlejuice," the way she said his name made him nervous, "are you afraid of my cooking?"

"Who, ME?" he pretended to be shocked. "Whatever do you MEAN, Lyds? I'm just tryin' to save ya some work, is all. You know what a considerate guy I am. Wouldn't wanna be a bother to ya."

"Oh, noooo, not you," Lydia groaned sarcastically. "Take a chance on me, Beej. I've learned a few things since the last time I cooked anything for you.

"Aw, I dunno, babes..."

"I'll let you add any gross ingredients you waaaant," she sang, "... to your own, of course."

"Well... okay," he gave in. "Ya twisted my arm." His right arm contorted into a corkscrew shape.

His best friend laughed. "You've done that joke before, silly."

"Hey, I can do the same joke twice," he told her. "Besides, a classic never dies. Unless it's me. Ha!"

They went to the kitchen and spent the next hour chatting and laughing while Lydia prepared homestyle macaroni and cheese. In place of one of the three kinds of cheese she used, Beetlejuice suggested bat barf for his own. The girl was disgusted, but she obliged when he was quickly able to produce the necessary ingredient. She didn't bother asking how, and she was VERY happy they were using separate dishes.

After dinner, which BJ had to admit was delicious, they camped out on the couch and watched several of Lydia's favourite Boris To Death films. Apart from the fact that he still thought Boris was a complete hack, BJ had a good time and grew very comfortable as the night progressed. The darkness outside seemed to be of little threat in the well-lit home, and the interaction between the two friends was exactly as it had been pre-Mouldboy. For those few hours spent engrossed in the comfort of each other's presence, things felt right again and troubles were temporarily forgotten. It was just like old times.

It wasn't until a crack of thunder shook the house, that Lydia found herself startled from a nap she hadn't planned on taking. Lifting her head from where it had fallen sideways against Beetlejuice's shoulder, she found her ghoulish pal had also drifted off, his own head flopping to the side from being propped awkwardly against hers when she moved. Apparently, they were both still more exhausted from the previous night than either of them had realized.

Mind still foggy, Lydia listened to the sound of pelting rain as it struck the windows with each gust of a rather strong wind. A flash of lightning, followed by another loud crack, was enough to get her thinking clearly again. Right now, a storm was definitely not something they welcomed. If the power went out...

She grabbed the lapels of her friend's jacket and shook him. "BJ, wake up," she commanded, trying not to sound too worried so as not to frighten him. "There's a storm."

He mumbled something unintelligible, then lifted his head. "Mmwhat?"

"There's a storm," she repeated. "You know... rain, wind, thunder and lightning?"

"Great," he slurred, bleary eyed. "Wake me when they play Shining Star."

"No, Beetlejuice! Not Earth, Wind & Fire!" she corrected him urgently. "It's a thunderstorm! You have to get up! We might lose our-"

KABOOM! The lights went out.

"... power," she finished, her voice small in the sudden darkness.

Lydia felt rather than saw Beetlejuice sit up straight as an arrow from his formerly slouched position.

"Uh oh," he said into the black.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Uh oh."

The rain beat against the windows like an ill-timed applause.

"Okay, okay, okay, no need to panic," the dead man uttered quickly. "I think I can shed some light on the situation."

With those words, he turned into a single candle in a holder that appeared in Lydia's hand. The immediate vicinity was lit once more, but most of the room was still plastered in shadow.

The girl didn't look particularly relieved. "Couldn't you, uh, do a little better than that?" she asked, fear creeping into her voice.

"I'm a little disappointed, myself," the candle admitted, just before it changed back into BJ and the room went completely dark for the second time. "It must be my nerves gettin' to me, babes! What're we gonna DO?!"

Lydia reached out sightlessly and grabbed his arm, not wanting to lose contact. "You have to calm down and concentrate!" she told him, sounding more panicked than she'd hoped. "Try to relax and pretend things are normal!"

"Yehck!" he gagged. "I hate normal!"

"Then pretend things are ABnormal! Whatever makes you comfortable so that your powers will work! You KNOW what I mean! This is no time to balk at semantics!"

"Hey, I'm no chicken!"

"What?!"

"Bawk, bawk, bawk!"

"Beetlejuice!"

"I'm just tryin' to pretend like things are... ugh... normal! You could be gettin' out the emergency candles, ya know!"

"I left them upstairs, remember?!"

"Oh, great, Lydia! Reeeaaal great!"

Lightning flashed again, just long enough for them to catch a clear glimpse of the far wall. To their mutual horror, a shadow was splashed across it. A shadow that didn't belong. It was too late.

They screamed in unison and the clap of thunder that followed the flash drowned out their cries. Beetlejuice pulled Lydia into his arms and tried to fly, but he only made it a few feet before his magic failed him. He floundered in the air, yelling for all he was worth, just before they dropped to the floor hard, hitting it one right after the other. There was no time to be in pain, however, and they both scrambled to get up, adrenaline fuelling their clumsy efforts.

Lydia was the first to right herself, and she fumbled for her friend, catching a handful of his hair before she managed to hook his collar and tried to yank him up. She felt him start to rise and move with her, but their progress was abruptly halted and completely reversed when he was suddenly hauled the other way by a force much stronger than the teen girl. She didn't have to see what was happening to know the shadow had grabbed him.

"NO!" she shouted at the unseen demon. "YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!"

She pulled with all her might, fighting to prevent herself from being dragged right along with her companion. Her grip on the collar of his jacket was slipping, but she couldn't let go to try and find a better hold. It was only by luck that Beetlejuice's hand shot up in the nick of time and seized her arm, maintaining the hold for her and giving her something else to latch onto.

"LYDIA, DON'T LET GO!" he pleaded, cleaving her heart in two. "DON'T LET IT-" the words were choked off before he could finish, inciting her to fight even harder.

"I won't!" she grunted as she strained against the opposing power. "I won't let it take you!"

A new voice hissed through the black, seemingly right in her ear, and made Lydia's blood run cold, "Ssssstay out of this, child! You're in the way!"

"Forget it!" she growled back at it boldly. "I'm not letting go! For anything!"

"Ssssstupid girl! Let go now, or we'll take YOU, as well!"

She gritted her teeth. "GET STUFFED!" she snarled.

"Fool," it said. "Then come along for the ride."

There was suddenly no hope of fighting the insurmountable force as it grew far stronger than Lydia and Beetlejuice could have ever hoped to be combined. The girl screamed as she was dragged across the room like no more than a rag doll, knocking into furniture and toppling over breakables that crashed behind her in the dark. They were pulled all the way to the stairs and immediately began to ascend, bumping against each step as the shadow hauled them up to Lydia's room.

Lightning danced across the sky outside, and the dresser mirror reflected it as they passed through the bedroom door. Lydia's hands clamped tighter around BJ's sleeve, and his fingers dug into her arm with bruising strength. In that fraction of a second, an unspoken message was shared between them; an assurance to one another that, no matter what happened, they would not let go.

As the thunder roared in accordance with the last flash, they disappeared through the glass, their terrified cries cut short as they were swallowed up by the next world. Only the sound of rain filled the subsequent void, pattering against the windows of the empty bedroom like an appreciative audience.


	22. Author's note

I've received some messages from readers that are worried/disappointed that this story has been discontinued, so this is just a quick note to hopefully put any and all concerned at ease.

The story has NOT been discontinued. In fact, I've got about a 1200 word start on the next chapter. You WILL get to see what happens next, and I intend to write plenty more chapters after that. So, wipe that sweat from your brow and try to stop biting your nails. More is coming. I promise.

To prevent future anxiety, it would be wise to expect updates to be sporadic as a matter of course. I have other commitments that require attention, and, to be completely honest with you guys, I'm dealing with chronic physical and mental health issues that complicate my life. That's not to say there won't be periods when new chapters are posted every few days again, but I may also go months at a time without getting anything written. It depends on a great many circumstances beyond my control. Such is the nature of the beast. In any case, BJ and Lydia have lots more to do, and I'm gonna write it for 'em.

If you can find the patience to bear with me during the lulls, I really hope you all will continue to enjoy reading the story. It's a great compliment when an audience is hungry for more, so I'm very touched. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review and/or PM me. :)


	23. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

It was dark. So very, very dark. Lydia had never experienced such darkness before. It was, she realized after some muddled thought, not truly any darker in the physical sense than some of the other strange places she'd been on her many adventures in the Neitherworld, but this particular absence of light gave her a feeling like no other. The atmosphere was positively soul poisoning. It felt as though it were one all-encompassing malevolent presence, and she'd been immersed in it like a deep pool of stagnant water. The air practically crackled with negativity, and with her eyes rendered useless, she was only that much more aware via her other senses.

Woozily lifting herself off a surface she couldn't identify, Lydia's head reeled as she tried to sit up. For a moment, she thought she would be sick, and she was forced to lie flat again until the nausea began to subside. It was then that she realized that the sleeve of Beetlejuice's jacket remained clenched in her fingers, and she could feel his hand still wrapped around her forearm, although his grip had slackened considerably. As the unsettling quiet of the light-starved surroundings pressed down upon her like the weight of a lead blanket, she found herself holding her breath as she perceived no sound or movement from his direction. Was he okay?

"Beetlejuice?" she squeaked his name, her throat dry and strained from screaming.

No reply came from the pitch black.

Unsteadily, she felt her way along the length of his arm, crawling closer until she made contact with his body. Knowing it would do no good to check the vitals of a dead man, she felt blindly for his face and patted his cheek, hoping to stir him into consciousness. To her great relief, she heard a groan.

"Oh, thank goodness," she breathed as she felt him begin to move.

"Lydia?" her name was croaked in a voice even more gravelly than usual.

"Yes, it's me," she affirmed. "Beetlejuice, are you alright?"

"Uh... I think so," he replied, not sounding so sure, "but that was no carny ride." He inhaled with a long snort and Lydia's stomach churned when she heard him hack and spit out a glob of phlegm. "Did wonders for my sinuses, though," he commented. "Where the heck are we, babes?"

"I was hoping YOU would know," said the girl. "I can't see a thing."

"Not a clue," the ghost admitted, glancing around with rising anxiety at the solid black. "This place is blacker than a bat's nostrils at midnight."

"Tell me about it," she agreed, grateful to hear him sounding like himself.

"And it FEELS horrible," he added with a shiver. "And not in the slimy, sloppy, fly-attracting way I'm fond of!"

Lydia put a steadying hand on what she guessed was his shoulder. "Don't get too excited," she warned. "We need you cool, calm and collected so you can juice us up some light."

BJ slapped his forehead. "Oh, yeah. Why didn't I think of that?" He cleared his throat and cracked his knuckles. "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it SHINE!"

They both held their breath as they expected the new surroundings to be revealed for the first time, but there was only an awkward pause as no light cut through the darkness.

"Hmmm," said Beetlejuice in the creepy, unchanged environment. "Um... This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it... glow?"

Another pause. Nothing happened. Lydia swallowed.

"I'm gonna let it BURN?" he tried. "Flash?... Flare?... Flicker?"

His companion sat quietly, waiting with growing concern as her eyes hungered for so much as a spark to behold in the opaque realm. It took all her patience and self control to keep a leash on her mounting fear as the seconds ticked by and still the blackness remained.

"Gleam?... Sparkle?... Radiate?... Illuminate?!" BJ was nearing his wits' end. "Aw, c'mon, just get rid of the darkness already!"

Lydia gripped his arm. "Beetlejuice..." her tone was pleading.

"It's not my fault!" he automatically went on the defensive. "I don't know what's goin' on! I'm used to the strange and unusual, but this is strange! And unusual! I don't know what to-"

"Sssssso quickly you forget," a sinister hiss interrupted, making his muscles go rigid in terror. "You've been here before, Beetlejuice..."

The 'ghost with the most' suddenly felt like he'd swallowed a cannonball. In that dreadful instant, the pieces fell into place. The darkness... the oppressive atmosphere... no juice... He knew exactly where they were, and it made him ill inside to realize it.

"Beej, what's wrong?!" Lydia anxiously asked as he ceased talking and she sensed the stiffness of his body.

"D-d-didn't you hear it?" he stuttered, beginning to tremble.

The girl was puzzled and alarmed. "Hear what?!"

"The sh-sh-shadow," he struggled to say. "What it s-s-said..."

Afraid, Lydia drew closer and nervously squeezed his arm. "I didn't hear anything! Are you sure you-"

She was cut off by his sharp yelp as the buzz of a billion whispers suddenly bombarded his brain. His hands instinctively flew to his ears in a futile attempt to block out the sound, tearing is arm from Lydia's grasp in the process.

"Beetlejuice!" she cried, grabbing at his jacket in fear of losing contact in the endless black. "What-"

"STOP IT!" he yelled, hearing only the tremendous noise. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!"

The sea of whispers erupted into laughter before they were once more reduced to a single voice. "As you wish," it chuckled with false amiability.

Lydia's heart was racing as her friend went quiet and she felt him curl up into a quivering ball. "What is it?!" she was completely at a loss. "Talk to me, Beetlejuice! I don't know what to do!"

"You didn't HEAR?!" he whined, voice cracking. How could she not? This was far too much like his nightmare about the beach. "It's the shadow! Or shadows! I don't even know if it's one or a zillion!... Please, don't let it be a zillion!"

"I am many," came the hushed tone again. "We are one."

"Make up your mind, will ya?" the ghost muttered in spite of his fear.

"I still don't hear anything," said Lydia, gathering that his last sentence hadn't been meant for her. "It must be like Dr. Void said. He told us shadows can't speak aloud, remember?"

"Actually, he said they can't 'shpeak' aloud," BJ corrected, still trembling.

If it hadn't been so dark, he'd have seen Lydia rolling her eyes. "Whatever. The point is they can only whisper to our minds. We probably only hear them when they speak to us personally in our heads."

"Sssssuch a clever girl," came the hair-raising response that only she could hear. "It's no wonder Beetlejuice keeps you around. A mind like yours is probably useful from time to time. Why else would such a powerful spirit bother with a mere mortal?"

Lydia felt a sting at those words. "What do you want with us?" she demanded to know, surprising herself by how fearless she sounded.

"With you, nothing," it said simply. "Your so-called 'friend' may have found ways to use you to his advantage, but we have no use for you here. The self-proclaimed 'ghost with the most', however..."

"Then you ARE going to turn Beetlejuice in for the reward," she accused, trying to ignore the hurtful remarks.

"Not even clossssse," the shadow replied; Lydia imagined it was sneering. "You take the opinion of that crack-brained doctor too seriously. Perhaps you're not so smart, after all."

"Babes?" BJ spoke up. "It's talkin' to you now, isn't it? What's it sayin' to ya?"

"Never mind," she told him. "Keep trying your magic."

He swallowed hard. "Uh... well... I'm usually all for bein' the bearer of bad news and everything, but... um..."

"But what?" she pressed, and she heard a cruel chuckle in her mind.

The nervous ghoul's stomach felt like it was in knots as he fidgeted in the darkness. "Well... not that it's MY fault or anything... It's not like I make the rules, so don't blame ME, but..."

"But WHAT, Beetlejuice?!"

He winced. "My juice won't work here," he finally admitted, sounding strangely guilty.

That took her off-guard. "How can you be sure?"

BJ took an unsteady breath. "Because I know where we are now," he explained reluctantly. "I've been here before. And so have you, babes. Ya just don't remember 'cause you were..." he trailed off as unwanted memories of holding Lydia in his arms as she clung to life by a thread overwhelmed him.

"Yessss," hissed the shadow in his head. "Tell her she was dying. Tell her how you considered letting her die, just so you could keep her forever. Tell her-"

"YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS!" he blurted over it, and he felt Lydia jump beside him. "Oh, sorry... I mean, you were unconscious," he repeated at a more reasonable volume. "This is the OTHER world, babes. The one we went to with Doomie through that weird, jumbo-sized vortex thingie. I dunno exactly what or where it is, but it's not part of the Neitherworld, or your world, or Disney World, or any other world I'm familiar with. And for some stupid reason, the rules are different here. My powers are about as effective in this place as perfume on a pig farm. Know what I mean?"

"Bravo," the acidic whisper was laced with sarcasm. "And the little ghost wins a big cigar."

Lydia seemed surprisingly undaunted by this news. "Okay, so your powers don't work here," she said. "But no one said MINE don't."

Beetlejuice felt a glimmer of hope somewhere deep within him as she slipped her hand into his. Could it really be that easy?

"I'm getting us out of here!" the teen declared. "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice!"

She closed her eyes as she chanted the three B's, all her will focused on transporting them back home. She, too, felt alight with a spark of hope before she dared to open them again - hope that this would actually work and they'd be back in the familiar comfort of her bedroom once more - but the fragile flame was all too swiftly extinguished by bitter disappointment the moment she did. Their situation had not improved.

"I guess no one had to say they don't," said an equally disappointed sounding BJ in the steadfast black. "They just don't. Bummer."

The shadow snickered. "What a shame," it was blatantly insincere, "but you really should have known better. Your 'powers', as you call them, are directly connected with Beetlejuice. If his don't work, yours don't work. Sssssorry."

Lydia had no retort. She could only release a defeated sigh as feelings of failure squashed any confidence she may have had under pessimism's heavy boot. She knew she shouldn't lose hope so easily, but the evil air was absolutely toxic to her normally resilient spirit. It seemed to feed on her discouragement, growing ever more intense as she became increasingly drained and sick at heart. So powerful was the effect, that she actually began to feel physically weighted down, as if some heavy gargoyle had selected her as its pedestal and perched like a stone statue upon her back.

Beetlejuice put his arms around her. "Don't worry, babes," he said, taking up the slack as he sensed his best friend's despair. "Leave it to me. I'll find a way to get us outta this shadow shop."

"Oh, yes," the voice in his mind gave the distinct impression of rolling its eyes. "Like you found a way to get yourself out of here before? You had more than a little help, if you'll recall."

"True," he agreed in a sly tone. "And if ya give me their number, I'll re-CALL 'em even better."

"Ssssstupid fool," came the venomous reply. "You got lucky. Help isn't coming this time. You'd do better to surrender now and be done with it."

The ghost gave a defiant snort. "Surrender to what?" he asked, plucking up all his courage. "Somethin' that hides in the dark, too chicken to show its face? I don't think so, shaddy-o!"

"MORON!" a legion of voices suddenly boomed, making him cringe. "We ARE the dark!"

It was getting harder to maintain a bold facade, but Beetlejuice knew he had to, for Lydia's sake if not his own. "Alright, alright, alright... so you're the dark," he forced himself to sound casual. "I've never been a big fan of sunshine, myself. But what's a shade like you want with a ghoul like me?"

It reverted to a single voice again, calm yet menacing. "We've been watching you," it said. "Ever since you first tumbled into this world like a drunken albatross, we've been following your every move."

"You and a fair number of readers," BJ interrupted. "Fan fiction," he grinned, "ya know I love it." Then he slipped into his British accent, "Do go on."

"We saw what you did in the Neitherworld," the shadow continued, sounding almost praiseful. "Sssssuch a display of power! The destruction... the turmoil... the emotional agony you inflicted... it was truly gloriousssss! You have the makings of a deity in your own realm."

"Oh, I get it!" the ghost seemed excited. "You want my autograph, huh? Sure, pal. Who do I make it out to? Wait, don't tell me... It's Richard somethin', right? Yeah, you seem like a Richard."

"Sssstop interrupting and lisssssten!" it spat, clearly losing patience. "You could be a god in your world, and yet you've spent centuries wasting your abilities on nothing but petty, childish forms of entertainment! You aspire to be no more than a mischievous imp, pulling your disgusting, juvenile pranks that only irritate and annoy!"

BJ shrugged. "Like that's a bad thing?"

"You are capable of ssssso much more," the voice oozed like slime, making him more uncomfortable than when it sounded angry. "You've demonstrated that fact. Therefore, we have a proposition for you..." There was a pause. And then... "You've been feeling lonely, haven't you, Beetlejuice?"

Something twisted in his gut at this unexpected question. He said nothing, but he sensed the shadow's wicked satisfaction as if he'd openly admitted the statement were true.

"You don't have to answer," the words were falsely soothing. "We know what you've been going through. We're in your head. We know what you think and how you feel. In fact, your suffering is what attracted us to you in the first place. It's been deliciousssss..."

Beetlejuice stayed silent. He didn't like where this was going.

"That little human friend of yours doesn't care for you like she used to, does she?" it went on. "She hardly even has time for you at all anymore, it seems. You're like an old toy that she's outgrown. You used to be her favourite, but now you're left on the shelf more and more often... sssslowly abandoned... sssslowly forgotten..."

His arms unconsciously tightened around Lydia, who had remained quietly oblivious to half the conversation up until that point.

"Beej?" she questioned, aware only of the silent tension. "What's happening?"

"Nothin'," he hurried to say. "Don't sweat it, babes. I got everything under control."

"Everything but her," the shadow was quick to put in. "You're losing her, Beetlejuice. She's slipping away from you, and there's nothing you can do about it. You may already be dead, but it's killing your soul."

A lump was forming in his throat as the painfully insightful words hit home. He didn't like the idea of his mind being read like an open book, especially the chapters that involved Lydia. This thing was prying into some of his most private thoughts, and he certainly didn't remember sending it an invitation.

"Quit playin' psychoanalyst with me," he ground out. "I've already got one, and unless your rates are lower, I don't need another one. What's the deal? Whadda ya want from me, anyway?"

"Join ussss," the spine-chilling reply came in multiple voices that seemed to surround him. "Become one with us and never feel lonely again."

Beetlejuice wrinkled his nose. "What IS this? Sgt. Shadow's Lonely Dark Club Band?"

"Lisssssten," the solitary voice hissed at him. "All the misery that plagues your wretched kind - all the pain, the sorrow, the heartache - we feel none of these things. Ever. We merely..." it paused, choosing its words carefully, "'harvest' such emotion from others, and use it to expand the darkness. It's what makes us sssstrong."

"So?"

"Sssso, if you were to join us, YOU would be free of all such feelings. Forever. Just imagine, Beetlejuice... every emotion you despise - sadness, guilt, shame, fear - you'd never have to feel any of it ever again. You would only reap the benefits of these feelings in others."

The ghost thought about this. "And what's in it for you?" he asked skeptically.

"What's in it for us is what's in it for you, since we'd be one and the same," it purred. "You would be completely absorbed, becoming part of our collective consciousness and making your unique talents available to the greater whole. Together, as one, with that kind of power, we could RULE your world; creating more havoc and causing more misery to feed on than ever before! Think about it. Our gain is your gain. You have nothing to lose but your personal woes."

Sweat beaded on the dead man's brow. "What about-"

"Your human? We have no interesssst in her. And neither will you, if you agree. Whatever foolish feelings you have for her will no longer exist, and she will be returned to her world to live the rest of her life... just the same as she will if you remain a forgotten toy on her shelf."

Beetlejuice felt a chill run through him. He hated to admit it to himself, but it was a tempting proposal, given his circumstances. After all, he felt like his whole afterlife was falling apart. With the law on his back and Lydia growing up, his future certainly didn't look like a bowl of fruit flies. And the chance to cause chaos without risk of punishment? It sounded like a dream come true. He began to imagine how satisfying it would be to gain more than mere entertainment from tormenting his many enemies. Strength from their suffering appealed to his more sadistic side, and the promise of doing it completely free of guilt was a temptation beyond compare.

"Ah, you're sssseriously considering it," the slithery tone broke in on his thoughts. "Marvelousssss..."

"Hey, don't count your plots before they hatch, Darth Shady," he advised it. "I haven't agreed to join the Dark Side yet."

"Yet?" Lydia's voice startled him. "Beetlejuice... what's going on?"

"Oh... Well, uh..."

"We've offered him the opportunity to join ussss," the shadow informed her first. "He's thinking it over. Touching, isn't it? Sssso much for his loyalty to you. We told you he was only using you."

She put both hands flat against him and pushed out of his embrace. "Is it true?" she asked. "Is this thing talking you into joining it?!"

"NO!" came the immediate denial. "Well... not really. Kinda. I mean, it's tryin' to... but-"

"How could you even consider such a thing?!" Lydia was mortified. "WHY would you?!"

"Because he's the same sssselfish scum he's always been," the shadow told her. "Did you really think a few years with YOU would negate centuries of unscrupulous habits? Let him go, child. He's a lost cause."

"I wasn't gonna do it, Lyds!" the ghost whined. "Honest! It's just messin' with my mind! And you know better than anyone how messy my mind is already! Took me years to get it just the way I like it! I didn't ask this thing to get in there and redecorate!"

"She doesn't believe you," spoke the voice in his head. "She never doessss. Forget her. This is where you belong."

Beetlejuice fumbled blindly for Lydia's hands and held them tight in his own. "Babes, ya gotta believe me!" he pleaded. "I don't wanna become a shadow! What would happen to my Neitherworld-renowned body odour? I can't smell this bad without a body!"

"He's lying," the shadow whispered to her. "Lying like alwaysss. He was seconds away from betraying you."

BJ noted his friend's lack of response and took a wild guess. "It's in your head, too, isn't it? That's what it does, Lyds! It gets inside your head and mucks around with all the stuff that makes ya feel bad! Like the dark side of Dr. Phil or somethin'! Oh, wait... we don't know who he is yet... Doesn't matter... The point is, it EATS bad feelings! And the more it eats, the fatter it gets! Just like ol' Chucky when he overdoes it on the Ding Dongs! I hate to say it, but this talking blackout is even more trouble than I am!"

"Nonsensssse," the shadow insisted. "Total fabrication as usual. Does Beetlejuice EVER tell the truth? His reputation speaks volumes. He's a liar, girl. A liar and a traitor."

Lydia shook her head, trying to refresh her befuddled brain. "But why does it even want you in the first place?" she directed her question at the one desperately clutching her hands.

"For my powers," he answered without hesitation. "It wants to super-juice the Neitherworld and make everybody miserable so the buffet stays open 24/7! And sure, it might sound like all fun and games, but what if someone loses an eye?"

"Liesssss," the shadow would not relent. "He's shifting the blame to someone else to avoid responsibility. Should you really be surprised? He's the same opportunistic back-stabber he's always been."

"Trust me on this, Lyds!" BJ was adamant. "Don't listen to anything it tells ya! It's just tryin' to add shish-kebabes to the menu!"

"He's a manipulator," persisted the mental voice. "Do you really think he feels anything genuine for you? He cares for nothing but himself."

Lydia's head was swimming. The influence of the dark world was so incredibly strong. She was confused and feeling sick.

"Lydia," Beetlejuice poured every last ounce of sincerity he could muster into his next words, "if you've ever believed me about anything, believe me about this..." he squeezed her hands, "I don't wanna lose you, babes. Ever. I just wanna get outta here and go home. Ya gotta trust me... Please."

For a moment, his heart sank to his toes as he felt her pull out of his grasp... but only for a moment. In the next second, her arms came around him, and he knew he'd gotten through.

"Let's blow this slop-stand," she mumbled tiredly against him, borrowing one of his own phrases.

Beetlejuice was so happy, he could've burst. He probably would have, if his magic had worked.

"Hey, Shady!" he yelled into the dark. "I hope ya realize this means I won't be stayin' for supper! Ha!"

"Ssssso be it," the shadow spoke with calm resolve. "If you won't join us willingly, we'll TAKE what we want. You have no means of escape."

The ghost gulped, his short-lived joviality over. "Oh, yeah," he said. "Logic... ya know I hate it."

The darkness closed in, and Beetlejuice screamed.


End file.
